Split, a Kim story
by deadlybeautiful
Summary: No, I’m worse than pathetic, I’m Kim. Which is by far worse than being just pathetic. Because when you’re Kim you get to be obsessed, neurotic, paranoid, painfully shy, and invisible too. That’s right, I’m Kim, the whole package deal. Jared/Kim
1. Chapter 1

**This story might have some darker themes later on so all bright and ever-cheerful people have officially been warned. It might have some controversial topics. I encourage you to leave comments in reviews but I would appreciate if you would put it politely and not trash something or someone you don't really understand. If you fail to put it politely, I won't be nice. And since no one wants to see me angry or that bitchy please be nice. **

**I don't own Twilight.**

**Read, Review, and Enjoy.

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Who am I?

I'm pathetic.

No, I'm worse than pathetic, I'm Kim. Which is by far worse than being just pathetic. Because when you're Kim you get to be obsessed, neurotic, paranoid, painfully shy, and invisible too.

That's right, I'm Kim, the whole package deal.

The other day someone asked me if I was new in town. And the ironic part is that I've lived in La Push since birth.

That's right, I'm Kim, the walking irony.

In fact I'm pretty sure that there are only four people who know I exist. My mother, the librarian, my best friend, and my history teacher.

See what I mean about pathetic?

My mother is obligated to know I exist. After all she gave birth to me, something that she constantly feels the need to remind me of. She feels this is the reason that I should kiss the ground she walks on.

The librarian sees me too often to not know that I exist.

My best friend just knows I exist. Jen expresses that she's all-knowing. Thus the reason she knows I exist. My best friend is… odd. It's better if you don't ask questions.

And lastly the only reason my history teacher knows I exist is because I'm failing history. And the reason I'm failing history is because I sit next to Jared Hillman.

You're probably wonder why sitting next to a guy would cause me to fail a class. Well, I might have this crush on him. And I find sitting next to him quite… distracting. But, it's not like I think I'm madly in love with the guy. I'm not stupid. I just happen to think he's attractive, smart, funny, nice, and that I might like to have him talk to me. Just once.

That's right, I'm Kim the social awkward girl who has a crush on one of the most popular boys in school who doesn't know I exist.

Yes, I'm aware that makes me a walking stereotype.

And, no, I'm not happy about it. I'm not happy about it at all.

In fact, I hate it. I hate it like I hate everyone who has ever run into me in the hallway and forgotten to apologize. I hate it like I hate my father, who thinks I was a mistake. I hate it like the world hates me.

And most importantly I hate it like I hate myself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, update!**

**I don't own Twilight**

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As far as I knew the worst thing in this world was wanting. This was always followed closely by hope.

The thing about wanting was that you couldn't control it. It's like being a little kid before Christmas, you can close your eyes and wish with all your heart -with all your _soul_- to get that _one thing _you desire above all else- be it a puppy or a pony- but you really have no control. I thought that when I grew up I would have some control over my life, but no. I'm still that little kid before Christmas, squeezing my eyes closed as tight as possible and putting everything I have into that wish, thinking that maybe if I _believe_ enough it could come true.

It never does, of course, but that never stops me from trying. Because if I don't try… I don't know what I would do.

All I wanted in the world was too be cared about, to have people _see_ me, to be a bit more brave, and to not hate my life.

Was that really too much to ask for? I mean, honestly it wasn't that selfish, was it?

Well, obviously someone somewhere -the person who go to run my life, someone with a terrible god complex- thought it was.

I hate that person, I really do. But, more than I hate them, I envy them.

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Sometimes I wonder about my best friend's sanity. I really do. She's… out there. Crazy in the way that you either love her or hate her, there was no middle ground with Jen.

"Hey, are you going to eat you potatoes?" her question breaks the quite between us. We're sitting alone at our own table, like everyday and she's staring at me. Her hair is green today, clashing oddly with her copper skin tone and mixing weirdly with her natural hair color. But, this was Jen, and -to be frank- this was subtle for her.

"No." I sighed and pushed my tray toward her, defeated. She spooned the lump of mashed potatoes out of the plastic well and plopped it down on her tray, a huge grin on her face. Like a kid on Christmas who get exactly what they wanted.

Jen didn't have goals, and she didn't have worries. She was just a dreamer with her head in the clouds. She had the initiative to get what she wanted. Think it, do it, get it, be satisfied. That was Jen.

She squirted a liberal amount of ketchup on the deformed mass of starch. The potatoes looked like they were bleeding, though the ketchup was for too thick to give the perfect imagery though. But it was close enough for me.

I must have made a face, because she started defending herself.

"You should try it Kimmy Co, tastes just like French fries." she smirked at me before popping a giant spoonful in her mouth. She was shameless, and I was starting to believe that Jen never regretted anything. And in many ways, I wish I could be more like her. Outgoing, spontaneous, and always smiling. Jen was always happy.

I groaned. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?" At least a hundred, in my opinion. "It makes me-"

"Feel like an anime character." She finished the sentence she had heard many times before; her mouth full of potatoes. "I know, I know."

I sighed, because that's what I do. Instead of talking, I sigh.

"You're going to sigh you life away, Kimmy, if you keep that up." She shook her head lightly before staring off into space, something she did often.

_Always the dreamer. _

I pushed my mixed fruit around with my fork instead of eating, glancing around the cafeteria to see if he was here. Normally I didn't stoop to such stalker-ish tendencies, but he hadn't been in class for two weeks. It wasn't like I was tearing my hair out because I was worried about someone I knew nothing about, it was that I didn't like being taken by surprise. I just wanted to know if I would have another Jared freed day to attempt to raise my History grade -which had gone for an F to a C- in his absence.

I really didn't mind him being gone, really. It made it easier to concentrate on things, and not worry about how looking at him makes my palms clammy. In many ways I disliked my infatuation though it was really more of an annoyance. I just kind of hoped it would go away, since _nothing _was _ever_ going to happen with me and Jared. I'd rather not get my hopes up.

"What's the matter?" Jen asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged. "Nothing, I'm just worried about my History grade." It wasn't exactly a lie, but Jen saw through it none the less.

"You mean Jared, don't you Kimmy?" she smirked at me and I felt myself blush.

"No." I attempted to lie, but she just laughed.

"You worry too much, Kimmy Co, you need to loosen up. Let your hair down. Stop to smell the roses. Lighten up. You know, all that jazz." she made extravagant hand gestures to help convey her message, melodramatic as always. "Dare to dream a little and stop being such a realist."

"I can't." I mumbled, it was a bad habit I picked up from my mother among other things. Like the fact that I jump at shadows. It was hardwired in my DNA.

She mulled that over before finishing off her potatoes. I glanced at the clock to realize that the bell would ring in a minute.

I dumped my tray of untouched food and headed to my locker to grab the essay that I had typed up last night before slipping upstairs to the History classroom. A whole seven pages on Napoleon that should raise my grade to a B, or if Mr. Whitmore was feeling generous an A-.

Of course, it was probably like any history room anywhere. Walls covered with posters and a monotone atmosphere that could drive students out of their minds. It contained desks, maps, a projector that was at least thirty years old, and no sign of Mr. Whitmore.

I sighed in exhaustion, in anguish.

A book fell in the door way, dropped by someone I hadn't expected seeing. I met his unabashed stare for only a moment before lowering my gaze to my shoes, a blush coloring my face.

It looks like I was wrong about Jared not being here today.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Twilight.  
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**Read, Review, and Enjoy!

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I don't like people staring at me, because I'm not use to people staring at me. After all, it was just me. What's there to stare at? Sure, Jen does it all the time but she also stares at her food, random people, posters, and space in general. The difference was that when Jen stared at me my hands didn't go clammy and my stomach didn't clench into uncomfortable knots. Which, just so happens, was happening to me right now. Stupid knee-jerk shyness.

How is it when someone stares at you, you can _feel _it? Like holes _burning_ your flesh, penetrating through your bone and into your soul. How is that _possible_? How can you feel something that has no mass? That has to go against the laws of physics.

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His gaze was constant and so was my blush, because the longer he stared at me, the more naked I felt.

"Hey." his voice was… off. Lower than I remembered, and I chastised myself for noticing. I really shouldn't-

Wait. Was he _talking_ to me?

This I had to check. I glanced up at him, seeing him from under my lashes. He was still staring, and I couldn't quite understand the look on his face. I had never seen someone look at anything like that. I met his gaze, to make sure he was talking to me. My stomach flopped and I dropped my gaze to the floor again. Why do I have to be so shy?

"Ah, uh… hey." I could barely hear myself. My cheeks flamed bright red with my embarrassment.

_Smooth Kim. Now he couldn't possible think you're a babbling spaz who can't form coherent sentences. _

He started walking toward me. I knew this not because I looked up again -I wasn't that stupid-, but because I saw his shadow moving closer to mine. I wanted to look up and see him, but then again, I didn't. It's so conflicting, being attracted to Jared.

He stopped close enough to me that I could hear him breathing. Oh, dear Jesus. What the hell was wrong with the world? Jared never looked at me, let alone talked to me. Something was wrong, out of place, askew, twisted, whatever you wanted to call it. Something wasn't quite right.

I couldn't fathom -couldn't even begin to imagine- why he was noticing me.

_Impossible. This is impossible. I'm dreaming._

But, I wasn't. Or, at least, I didn't think I was. The only concrete evidence that I had to back up it up was that when I normally dreamed I always woke up before Jared started talking. Talk about pathetic, even in my dreams he doesn't talk to me.

He seemed at a loss for things to say. I couldn't say that I didn't feel the same way. I sure as hell couldn't say anything, even if I wanted to - my throat was closing around any words I could have wanted to say.

There was an awkward tension in the air. It was the tension of meeting a complete stranger. Well, I wasn't meeting a stranger -or at least a complete stranger. Jared was. I, however, was waiting to be completely devastated when he asked what my name was. Because, honestly, it was bound to happen.

Thankfully, Mr. Whitmore walked in.

"Why is there a book in the doorway?" He mumbled to himself before bending down to pick it up, coming up scratching his head. The picture of oblivious, confused teacher- the kind you see in all those stupid movies. Talk about a teen movie cliché; I almost laughed at how ridiculous all of it was. Nice popular boy finally notices the antisocial invisible girl.

_I mean, really? How cheesy can you get?_

It wasn't funny though, because this was my life. And although someone -that person with the terrible god complex- thinks it just one big joke, I wasn't going to laugh. Mostly, because I didn't want to seem completely insane for laughing at nothing.

"Oh, hello" he said, finally noticing the two awkward teenagers standing in his room, one the size of a mountain and the other blushing like a fool. "Kimberly, Jared. What can I help you with?"

I wanted to correct him, tell him my name was Kim, not Kimberly, but I couldn't find the courage. I never can. I'm such a wimp, such a pathetic excuse for a human.

"I, uh, did that, um, extra credit." I thrust the stapled packet of paper at him. He took it and I left the room as fast as I could, stumbling on the doorframe in my haste to get out. I never liked uncomfortable moments and I tried to avoid them as often as possible. And if that meant almost sprinting down the hallway because I was nervous, anxious, and confused; so be it. I just _needed _to get the hell out of there.

I made it to the girl's bathroom, panting a little and wondering if I have finally lost my mind. Because I couldn't come up with any answer as to why Jared was talking to me. Besides insanity, that is.

Because people don't go from not knowing someone exists one day, to talking to them the next without _something_ going on. Maybe it was my paranoia that had me lock myself in the bathroom stall and pray for God to shoot me; I couldn't say though, since I wasn't thinking straight. I just needed to come up with a logical answer.

_Hallucination. Someone drugged my food and I hallucinated the entire thing._

I didn't like this one, because -like any obsessed girl anywhere- I wanted it to be real.

_A bet._

More likely, though the look on his face made me think not. I had seen Jared act in the school play last year, and he wasn't good enough to fake that.

_God has a heart and pities poor Kim, willing to throw me a bone._

I threw this option out because I wasn't religious and even if God exists- which I'm sure he doesn't- he hated me or didn't have enough to spend time thinking about little old me.

_Damn._

It was then that I remembered that I had just made a complete ass out of myself.

_Great. Just great._

Talk about embarrassing. I was _mortified_. I was mortified by the simple fact that I couldn't form complete sentences in front of someone. So mortified that my cheeks started burning again, blood swelling to the surface. What kind of idiot runs away? Oh, that's right, this idiot.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." I muttered like a mantra while hitting my head against the stall door.

_Figures. The one time he'll ever talk to me is the time I act like a complete moron._

**(A/N: Poor Kim doesn't know what she's getting into. If you haven't noticed Kim is VERY insecure. She does something and regrets it minutes later. Ah, well, that's life I guess.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Busy week this week so I don't know when I'll be updating any of my stories. Sorry. So, yeah.**

**My goal for this story is 600 reviews. I don't know why, really since it's such a pointlessly high number to hope for but... still. It would make me SO happy. So we'll try. Meaning that I will try and write a fan- freaking- tastic story. And if I do my part (as mentioned in the sentence before) you guys will review. Sound like a deal?**

**I don't own Twilight**

**Read, Review, and as always Enjoy!

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My cheeks were bright red and I didn't know what Mr. Whitmore was saying, because Jared was staring at me. Again. You would think that after I had made my grand exit that he would forget all about me, but no. The second I step back into the room, five minutes later, he's still looking at me. He's still _staring_.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the common sense to not look at him. So I kept sneaking glances at him and each time he smiled at me. Jared's smile was like a thousand watt light bulb, blinding and beautiful but painful to take in, so much so that you could never look directly at it. It was painful because I knew that there was no way that this was real. I had accepted that this wasn't happening.

I had accepted that this was a dream. A good one, but a dream nevertheless. It was really the only logical conclusion that I could come to.

That didn't stop me from wanting it to be real, though.

Halfway through the hour Mr. Whitmore passed out a quiz. When the white paper fell on the desk I was surprised. With one glance I realized that I was screwed.

A groan echoed through my mind like a scream in a deserted hallway.

_Well there goes my grade._

I sighed quietly and scribbled my name at the top of the paper- the paper that would later be marked with a giant red F.

"Kim?" I heard a whisper; just the barest hint of a voice, the ghost of a sound. I looked up instinctively, glancing around to see who was saying my name.

"Kim." Jared whispered and I glanced over to look at him for the countless time that hour. If anything this time his smile is brighter than before, and I was almost positive that my blush reached the tips of my toes.

I forced myself to pay attention to my quiz and after a few minutes of elimination and guessing it was filled out and placed in the hand-in tray. I slumped back into my desk, my hands automatically reaching for my book. A well worn and loved copy of my favorite story.

I tried to get myself lost in the words, in the pages. I tried to get myself into the story but couldn't manage to do it with his gaze on me. I read the words but I couldn't focus; I read the words but they lost all meaning in my distracted state.

I glanced over at him. Again. He wasn't smiling this time, but his brow was crumpled slightly as his eyes flickered from the cover of my book to my face. I could see curiosity there, in the depths of his dark eyes that were riddled with secrets. Secrets that made _me_ curious; secrets that made me wonder what the Golden Boy of the junior class had to hide. Because, as far as all of the teachers and administrators were concerned, Jared Hillman could do no wrong. He had good grades, easy laid back attitude, and a personable smile that you couldn't say no to. Why would Jared Hillman have secrets?

The corner of his mouth perked up when he noticed my stare and he extended his hand toward me. "My name is Jared." He spoke in a whisper since most people were still working on their tests.

_As if I didn't know._

"I, uh, I know." I stared at his hand, unable to do or say anything else.

He waited to see if I would shake his hand and introduce myself, like a normal person would, but he didn't seem to know that I was paralyzed by my crippling shyness. I was a frozen Kim Statue in my desk. A Kim Popsicle if you will.

After a minute he finally dropped his hand and the corner of his mouth faltered in his semi- smile. He's disappointed. Why is he disappointed?

Most people would drop their hand and give me a look that says 'freak' then go on with their lives. Most people wouldn't be disappointed. But, I had a feeling that Jared Hillman wasn't 'most people'.

He continued. "It's Kim, right?"

I nodded mutely, casting my eyes back toward my desk. I sighed quietly because I guess I had been wrong about Jared not talking to me again. How many times can I be wrong about one person?

"That's a nice name." he said conversationally.

_Ugh, small talk._

I had never been really good at small talk. Never had that knack for talking to someone about the weather or anything along those lines. I had plenty of practice though, with my father, but I really didn't like small talk. It's pointless and degrading, in my honest opinion. It's the conversation you have with someone when you really don't have anything to say. It's the conversation you have to force yourself to have. It's the conversation you don't really _want_ to have.

This made me frown. I hadn't pegged Jared as the type that enjoys small talk, like businessmen in suites at luncheons. Like old men at coffee, sipping and talking, spreading more gossip than old women playing cards.

"Do you not like your name?" he asked leaning forward a little in his seat, restlessly. Almost as if this small fact didn't sit well with him.

I didn't like my name and was surprised by his question. Who asks questions like that? And, more importantly, who answers questions like that?

Well, me.

"I, uh… no. I don't." I muttered. His brow crinkled at this, almost like he was frustrated with my answer.

"Why?" By this time most of the class was talking, so he didn't lower his voice.

I didn't like my name because it was so plain, so boring. So very _me_ it was ridiculous. But, I wasn't going to tell Jared this.

Instead, I shrugged. For it was, by far, the simplest answer.

"You don't know?" his voice was incredulous.

_I never said that._

"You're right, you never did." he nodded. I froze, because I hadn't realized that I had said that out loud.

"So why don't you like your name? I think it's a good name, simple at first but the closer you look at it, the more beautiful you realize it is." he leaned back suddenly, relaxing.

_Odd, he was so tense a minute ago._

"It's just a name." I played with the side of my book as I spoke, lifting the pages and letting them fall back down. It helped my anxiousness to do something with my hands. It helped me think that I had control over something, unlike everything else in my life.

"No, it's not." he shook his head. "It's your name. You should be proud of your name. You should like your name. _I _like your name."

I shrugged again, because I couldn't think of anything to say to that. He was right, of course, I should like my name. But, I don't, and I doubt that's going to change anytime soon.

His next question threw me so off guard and so out of my comfort zone that I stared at him like he was crazy. Because, at this point, I almost believed he was.

"So, Kim, what are you doing this weekend?"

**(A/N: What will Kim say? Something witty? Something stupid? Something that makes her sound like a babling spaz? You'll have to review to find out. And btw her favorite book is going to come into play later on. Just so you know.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Gah! Swear. This chapter is short, like most of them will be. But there will be LOTS of them. Tons. So don't worry that you won't get a long story. I got you covered.**

**I'm still debating weather to make this as dark as I want it. I want it to be real. I want to have the real emotion. (Tell me what you think, please)  
**

**I'm still working on the plot. Yeah, I should have had that to begin with but... I don't work that way. So when I have a rough idea the updates will be more consistent. I hope.**

**So, yeah. I don't own Twilight.**

**Read, Review, and as always, Enjoy!**

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There are certain moments in your life that define you as a person. Most of them happen during childhood, some during adolescence. They vary from losing your first tooth, to your first Christmas, to your dog dying, to your first kiss. Not all of them are pleasant, not all of them shape you for the better. Not all of them are expected.

I knew mine.

The first time my mother read me a book, when I leaned to ride my bike, the day my mother accidentally killed my pet turtle Speedy, the day I started reading on my own (which was probably before I learned to ride my bike), the day I leaned that I was an accident (talk about cherished family memories), and the day that Jared asked me what I was doing this weekend.

Yep, sounds about right.

I'm not really sure how the last one will define me, but maybe I'll find out someday.

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I opened and closed my mouth, kind of like a fish. Ok, a lot like a fish and I did it two, maybe three times. I really couldn't stop myself.

"What?" I finally manage to say. Jared laughs at my reaction, finding this amusing for reasons I don't know. I let out an irritated sigh as I blush.

"I asked you what-" He smirked.

I cut him off. "I know what you said." My voice was so quite that I was surprised he heard me. His mouth twisted up and his forehead crumpled.

"I'm confused." he prompted me to explain.

I shake my head, not sure if I _want_ to explain. There's a pause between us as I gather my thoughts, a very awkward pause.

"Forget it." I sighed.

He nodded, dissecting this and trying to figure out what the hell I meant.

_Good luck, I'm not even sure._

"Is that an 'I'm not doing anything this weekend, Jared. I would love to go on a date with you!' or a 'Go to hell loser!'?" Jared asks finally, smiling again. I laugh despite myself, because his attempt at a girly voice is _so_ hopeless.

"I'll take that as a yes to the former." he says, grinning as the bell rings. "I'll pick you up at eight on Friday." And on that note, he picks up his books and leaves me stunned in my seat as he walks through the door.

Jen barges over to my desk as soon as the coast is clear. "What in holy hell just happened?" She's excited for me, more excited than me. She's all angles and smiles, having probably watched me and Jared the entire period. It would be such a Jen thing to do.

I'm still pretty shell shocked and my voice comes out sounding a little distant, if not a bit confused. "I'm going on a date with Jared?" It comes out like a question, though I didn't mean it to.

"You are?" her smile is so big it almost eclipses her face, like this is supposed to me my dreams come true.

_Is it? _

"I guess."

"You guess? You guess! You _guess_?" Jen has been groaning over my answer for the last ten minutes. "Kimmy you don't guess. Aren't you happy? Jared talked to you. Jared _stared_ at you. Jared asked you on a _date_."

"Sure." I said staring out the fogged up bus windows.

I was happy, to an extent. But I didn't really trust that Jared wouldn't come to school tomorrow and forget all about the girl he stared at in history class.

"Haven't you been pining over him for a year?" she doesn't wait for me to answer. "Yes, yes you have. And now, the day he finally speaks to you all you have to say is 'Sure.'?" She takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. "I am so disappointed in you Kimberly."

"Don't you find it in the least bit suspicious that he just goes from ignoring me one day to staring the next?" I asked my overdramatic friend as I watched green trees blur by, distorted by the condensation.

She considers this for a minute, the first time she's shut her mouth since the end of school.

_I swear if she keeps this up I'm bringing duck tape to school, or ear plugs._

I rub my temples with my fingertips and try to push away my Jen-induced headache. I love the girl to bits and pieces, really, but my head can only handle so much.

"It is weird." she finally concludes, still thoughtful. "I'll look into it. Keep my ears open. I'm sure I can get something out of Paul while he's threatening me tomorrow during our Chemistry lab." Her eyes narrow. "God, I hate that kid."

"What did he say to you today?" I asked anything to get her off the subject of Jared.

"He called me a transvestite." she mumbled before smiling. "I told him that he must have me confused with the person he sees in the mirror."

I laugh because I find Jen's war with Paul highly amusing. They're constantly fighting, yelling, or otherwise insulting one another. One time, Jen threw a plastic pencil case at him and split his ear open.

"What did he say to that?" I asked pressing my forehead against the cold glass of my window and watched my breath cloud the already cloudy image of trees flying by the rickety old bus.

"Nothing." she beams, smugly.

"Good for you." I mumbled with a small smile.

"So Kimmy Co, what are you going to wear on your date?" Jen asks and my smile fades away.

"Can't we just drop this?" I plead, turning towards her.

"Okay, Kimmy." she smiles and I sigh, grateful.

"So," she asks after a minute. "What do you want to talk about?"

I shrug.

"Really, Kim? Nothing?" she asks picking at a lose thread on her shirt.

I sighed, again, this time annoyed.

"So you don't want to tell me why you sprinted out of the history room before class?" she bats her eyelashes innocently, too innocently. I flush, embarrassed.

I opt for the less violent route and ignore her instead of pushing her out of the lumpy bus seat and onto the dirty, wet floor.

"Kimmy?" Jen chirps, leaning forward so she's in my personal bubble. I glare out the window instead of giving her the satisfaction she wants.

"Oh, boo on you Kimmy Penny." she sulks after a minute when it is clear as day that I'm not going to tell her. Then the light bulb clicks on over her head, and she gives me a mischievous grin.

"I'll find out Kimmy. Mark my word, I will find out." she says before she jumps up, grabs her stuff, saunters down the aisle, and exists the bus all with a flourish that's entirely Jen.

I groan against the window pane, wait as the rickety bus starts back up, and pray for my stop to come quickly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here is the update. Here is the controversy. Remember, be nice. **

**I don't own Twilight. I don't own House or Law and Order either. **

**Read, Review, and, as always, Enjoy!

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Fear is a really odd thing. It can creep up on you in an instant, or it can harbor in your thoughts, driving you within an inch of your sanity.

I knew fear. I knew how crippling it was, how utterly paralyzing.

I was my mother's child, a woman who was so afraid of anything that she checked the locks on the door at least twice before going to bed. Acute paranoia was the easiest way to explain it. Though that wasn't quite right, more like something else. Something that I could never explain. But, it was fear.

Simple irrational fear, at least it was familiar.

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I came home and did my homework, because I don't have a social life outside of school. All of it was fairly easy -besides my history that took me an hour- because school was just second nature to me.

I flopped back on the couch, pulled a pillow over my eyes, and sighed.

Same old routine. Normally I found comfort in the routine, but after all the excitement in history, it just seemed so boring.

My mother came home, said the things she always said, did the things she always did, and left for her second job. Leaving me with an empty house and nothing to do. So eventually I ended up staring at things in the eerie silence for a few house before going to bed early.

The dark has always freaked me out. It wasn't that I was afraid, that wasn't it. It was just the thought of all the things that lurk in the dark that scared me. The shadows always seemed to move and send my heartbeat soaring.

So as I made my way through my dimly lit house with wet hair and my pajamas on I did so quietly, straining my ears for any sign that there was someone else there. Normally I don't get this paranoid, but something felt off tonight.

It felt like someone was watching me, which happens sometimes, and it always ends up that I am incorrect in my thinking.

_Snap out of it. No one is going to break into the house. This is La Push for Christ sakes! What is the crime rate in Clallam County anyway? Probably non-existent. _

When I'm finished giving myself a mental pep talk I slip into my room bury myself into my bed, covers under my nose like a little kid who's afraid of the boogie man. I wasn't afraid of the boogie man, serial rapist sure -this might be the effect of watching too much _Law and Order- _but I haven't been afraid of the boogie man since I was five and had a butterfly shaped nightlight plugged into the outlet next to my bed.

My head reels from today as I sink farther into the comfort of my bed. It's so unfamiliar, so foreign the day that I've had today. My logical head can't seem to understand why.

_Why?_

I don't think I'll ever get an answer.

I curl up into a ball and squeeze my eyes shut. The nights are always the hardest because at least in the daylight I don't feel so insignificant. I feel insignificant tonight.

I try to fall asleep, try to leave my mind blank and find rest, but I can't. My mind keeps going back to Jared and the puzzle he's presented me. I feel like House, trying to figure something impossible out. It will probably end up being something simple, like a toothpick or the measles.

I don't like feeling like this. I don't like not-knowing. I don't like feeling so completely lost.

Normally when I feel like this it's because I'm thinking about the future, or my father, or just the unknown in general. Subjects that I avoid thinking about at all costs.

There's only one way I'm going to get sleep tonight but I don't want to find relief that way. I don't want to resort to the razor in my nightstand. I don't want to rely on the sharp piece of metal to make me feel better. I feel disgusted just thinking about it, but I know that sleep won't come until my I bleed out the unknown. I won't find peace of mind until my arm is stinging.

It's sick, I know. I'm sick, I know. But I'm just so lost, I'm just so afraid. What would you do? With a father who doesn't care and a mother who's never home, who do you turn to? There's no one I can tell. Jen's life is too perfect to let her know, and no one else knows I exist.

I give up, roll over and dig a small razor out of my nightstand. It's small and it's not too sharp. I've read stories were people glorify cutting, glorify a razor. I don't, I won't. It's sick, it's wrong. The razor isn't beautiful; it's ugly like a monster out of my worst nightmare.

I dig it across my arm and it hurts. Of course it hurts, it always hurts. The cut isn't too deep and at first it doesn't even bleed. It's just a scratch, a very painful scratch. When the blood does come it just wells to the surface, no more. I wipe it away and my skin stings.

It's weird how I feel better. That isn't right. It isn't. I can't explain it, how light I feel. Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, like I can breathe again.

Most people are afraid of normal things, like small spaces, being buried alive, spiders, or sometimes even snakes. But me, I'm afraid of myself.

I rolled back over and squeezed my eyes shut again. My arms circled around my knees and my fingers dug into my sides. Fear choked me, surrounded me and I've never felt so invisible, so alone.

"I wish I wasn't so alone." I whisper to the stars that I can't see and to a God that I don't think is real.

I cried myself to sleep.

**(A/N: Review please. Be nice.)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the wait guys. Had a lot of other stories on my mind. **

**I don't own Twilight.**

**Read, Review, and as always, Enjoy!**

* * *

Have you ever been invisible? No? Well, I have. Be glad that you haven't because it's one of the worst feelings in the world. It's being bumped into like you're nothing. It knowing that if you scream, no one will even bother looking at you. It's feeling like if no one sees you, you might not even be there.

It's like being a walking ghost. A walking, sighing, solid ghost.

No one sees you, but you know that you're there… at least most of the time anyway.

I've spent most of my life being invisible, I didn't know anything else. I didn't know what if felt like for someone to see me.

* * *

Thursday, ah, you've got to hate it. It's better than Wednesday but not quite as good as Friday. Though, personally I was dreading Friday.

_Can I just skip to Saturday? No? I didn't think so._

Jen was being uncharacteristically quite and, for once, I wished she'd talk.

The bus rumbled up the curved drive in front of the school and to a creaking stop in front of QTS and we all piled off dutifully like the good little students we are. QTS was fairly unimpressive. Cedar siding -at least I thought it was cedar, then again I'm no expert on woods- and a little landscaping, nothing too fancy, after all were just reservation kids. I gave the totem pole -the one sitting smack dab in the middle of the lawn- a last glance, like everyday, and made my way into the school through the red doors.

The hallways were crowded and people kept bumping into me.

_Nothing new there,_ I thought just a tad bit too bitter for my age.

Maybe I was just preparing myself to run into Jared. I could almost see his face, the face that too many people have given me. The look that told me that they're looking _through_ me, blank eyes that are unfocused, faces impassive. Or maybe it would be like the people who didn't even bother looking at me.

I sighed.

Thursdays at QTS were boring. Or, at least they were for me.

Get up, get ready, get on bus, wait to get to school, get off bus, go in school, go to locker, go to class, sit through class, go to another class, sit through that class, go to another class, suffer through that until lunch, eat lunch, go to last period, sit trough that class, go get on bus, wait on bus until my stop, and then get off at my stop.

Can you see what I mean about boring? I mean, its mind numbing really. No excitement, no fun. It was just PE, Culture class, Algebra 2, and English.

By lunch I was dragging my feet mostly because Mr. Kimble had us run laps today in PE. I slump to my usual table and plop down across from Jen, a tray of spaghetti in my hands. I drop it a few inches from the table and am satisfied when it makes a loud clag that is lost in the sea of sound that the students make. Chatting, laughing, gossiping, it all surrounds me.

I pick at the food, eating only a little. Something didn't feel right. My gut told me -in a squeamish kind of way- that there was something unusual. Thankfully -and sort of unthankfully- Jen told me the source of my unease.

"Jared is staring at you, Kimmy." she seemed more chipper than she had this morning. Jen never really had been a morning person.

"What?" My voice was squeaky with my disbelief.

_That's embarrassing._

"Jared. Is. Staring. At. You." she was smirking at me now, annunciating each word.

Of course, I had to look, because I'm the kind of person who has to see to believe. He was sitting at his usual table, across from Paul and he _was_ staring at me. When he noticed I was looking he smiled that thousand watt smile which caused me to blush and drop my gaze to the table. Jen laughed at me.

"Kimmy, Kimmy, Kimmy. What are we going to do with you?" I could hear the smile in her voice and made a mental note to get her back for it later.

"Oh, Kim if you think that was embarrassing then this is going to be hilarious. He's coming over here."

I glanced up -again, because I have to see to believe- and again she was right. He was walking towards me -towards us- with a grace that no man should have. If I was blushing before than I was tomato now, my heartbeat fluttering in my chest because he was smiling at me. He still had that look on his face -the one he had worn in history yesterday- and he looked like he was so happy to see me.

No one had ever been that happy to see me. No one.

It was a strange feeling having someone new notice me. It was strange for another person to realize I wasn't invisible.

"Hey Kim." He greeted me in the brightest tone, the one I recognized he used with his friends in the hallway.

"Hi, uh, um, hey." I mumbled, unable to keep eye contact. Or, you know, speak in intelligent sentences. But, hey, what else is new?

"So, Kim, are you excited about tomorrow?" his dark eyes bore into mine, not invasively, but I felt strange. Is this what it feels like for everyone?

I rarely looked people in the eye. I tried, I mean, I wasn't trying to be disrespectful or anything. I just couldn't, save for Jen and mom. But, Jared was different, I wanted to keep eye contact.

I just couldn't.

I dropped my gaze to spaghetti. "Uh, yeah, um, sure." Was the noise that came out of my mouth in a rush. Jared seemed to understand what I was saying. I glanced up at him again before loosing my courage and dropping my gaze, again. He was still smiling. Does that boy ever not smile?

"That's great. Well, I'll see you tomorrow Kim."

I lifted my gaze in time to see him give me a little wave before walking out of the cafeteria leaving me far more confused than I had ever been in my entire life.

For the first time in my entire life -as I noticed people staring at me, without a doubt wondering what Jared had been doing talking to me- I felt visible.

I'm still not quite sure if I like it or not.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, here you go. Still don't have an entire plot. Just snippets that need to be linked together. Sorry for not updating but... I've been reading a lot. And reading always leads to inspiration. For me, at least. I have more stories up, just not Twilight related ones.**

**I don't own Twilight.**

**Read, Review, and as always, Enjoy!**

* * *

Here is a simple fact: I have never been kissed - I know, not so surprising, it is me we're talking about after all. Therefore, from this you can easily assume that I had never been on a date in my entire life -unless going to a crappy hole in the wall coffee shop with my father counted, which, personally, I don't think it did. If you assumed this, then you would be right.

I've never been on a date.

So I think you can imagine my… unease. I think you can imagine the knots in my stomach, coiling in upon themselves. I think you can imagine the way my skin felt too tight, as if I didn't belong in it.

I mean, I didn't know the first thing about dating. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to say. And I certainly didn't know what to wear -but this was nothing new, I never knew what to wear because I am perpetually hopeless.

Perpetually hopeless, yeah, that's a pretty accurate description of me.

-

I was buried in mound of cloths, most of which had tumbled from my closet. I shoved sweaters off my face, blowing lint out of my mouth. Some were scratchy, made from wool, and others were pastel with big bright-eyed angels praying on them, presents from my grandmother -hideous things, no wonder they were hidden in the crevasses of my closet.

I laid there for a minute, defeated by my own clothes- and perhaps an old childhood stuff animal or two. Some of the clothes were too small for me to wear, others to worn out, clustered by holes and threadbare patches. Others were what I would wear everyday. Some were too formal - a funeral dress, an uncomfortable fake-velvet shirt from a wedding.

I had no knowledge on dating, but I didn't think everyday clothes were…acceptable. On the other hand, maybe they were. To hell if I knew.

_This is ridiculous. Why__ am I doing this?_

Why _was_ I doing this? Ah, that's right, because I don't have the balls to cancel.

_Would he believe that I caught the flu since lunch? No?_

_Damn._

I finally pushed the clothes off me, giving a small grunt at their weight -who knew clothes could be so heavy? Sitting up I took a deep breath adjusting to not having the weight of all my disgraceful fashion sense sitting on my chest. It felt good to be able to breath like a functioning human again.

Finally, I decided that it really didn't matter what I wore, the date was going to be a disaster anyway.

_Why put more effort into the inevitable? _

I ended up shoving on a pair of jeans that weren't threadbare at the knees or frayed at the hem, a plain t-shirt, and a sweater that smelled a little musty -though it looked nice, not too dressy. It might be spring but it was still cold outside -this was La Push after all. The weather changes for no girl -especially not _me_.

A glance at the clock shows me that after my Closet Fiasco -and yes, a fail that epic deserves a proper name, I mean really, how did I managed to dump _everything_ in my closet down on myself I'll never know- that I am running late, or later than I had expected.

I kicked my clothes back into my closet. I'll just have to settle for them being on the floor for now; I don't have time to hang them up.

I stumble down the hall, tugging on a pair of sneakers -no dress shoes for Kim, I don't do heels and wearing flats in rain isn't the best idea in the world. When I finally make it to the bathroom -without hurting myself- I decided against make-up. My skin isn't breaking out, so no foundation -besides I can never seem to find the right color, I'll probably look like I have skin cancer if I even bother. I _know_ I won't need blush -again, damn my shyness. Mascara is out because I was 'blessed' with my mother's eyelashes. She says blessed, I'd say cursed, but that's just my opinion. I'm a failure at eye shadow -on several occasions I have ended up looking like a raccoon- so I don't even consider it.

As I look at my face I scowl and my reflection scowls back, unhappy to see me.

_The feeling in mutual, trust me._

I look plain. It's a simple fact so I don't dwell on it, instead I focus my attention on my hair, which is in dire need of help. I wonder what I should do with it and am finally resigned to go with my customary standby- a ponytail.

Normally I wear my hair down, because it's much easier to deal with that way. I have also found it is quite nifty to hide behind -or, at least lately it has been.

_What am I going to hide behind tonight? _

However, before I can answer my own question, there's a knock at the front door.

_Jared's here._

_Crap._

**(A/N: What will happen on the date?! Review to find out.)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry this took so long. Between grounding and vacation and new ideas and good stories and my creative writing assignment -to which I'm considering just using one of my stories on here after sever editing because I'm incapable of doing a story about completely normal people for more than five minutes. In short, I've been very busy. **

**New stories - _ Fornever, not forever_ [one shot] and _Once upon a time, in a Mental Institution_ you should check them out.**

**I love this chapter, it's so funny.  
**

**I don't own Twilight. **

**Read, Review, and, as always, Enjoy.**

* * *

"Hey Kim." Jared says as soon as I answer the door. He's smiling.

I'm starting to wonder if his face is stuck like that. I bet it is. That's the only explanation I can come up with for his behavior. That or cocaine, but I doubt that Jared's on drugs.

"Uh, hey Jared." I blush, as his smile grows bigger.

_If his smile gets any bigger his face is gonna break in half. Wouldn't that be a lovely end to the date? Ah! Kim! You broke my face! Yeah, just lovely._

I open the door more, inviting him in without words so I can get my jacket… that's when I notice the flowers. Yes, flower- trust me, I'm just as surprised as you are.

He follows my confused gaze and remembers the cellophane contained bouquet in his hand.

"They're for you." He says as he holds them up. They aren't perfect, a few of them are wilted and one of them is broken in half- a lot of them are missing petals. But, they're absolutely perfect for a girl who's never gotten flowers before. They're probably the best that the grocery store has to offer. "I didn't know what kind you liked so-"

"Thanks, ah, they're great. Very pretty." They are, I'm not lying. I actually like the flowers, as crappy as they are. It's the gesture that counts. I give a very shy smile as he hands them to me.

_Now what the hell do I do with these? Ah, water might be preferable. _

"You can, uh, um, come it while I, ah, put these in some water." I stepped away from the door and headed towards the kitchen.

_God I sound ridiculous. Um? Uh? Ah? Will I ever be able to speak in front of him? No? I didn't think so. _

"You're house is nice." he commented. More small talk, great.

"Uh," There it is again. "Thanks."

_Do we __own__ a vase? _I really don't know. Isn't that sad?

I search the cabinets while Jared leans against the doorframe looking totally at ease. I feel like I'm going to barf knotted up intestines.

_How does he do it?_

A small sigh comes from me when yet another cabinet does not have a vase in it.

_Damn, this is awkward. _

Well not for Jared. I was starting to resent his laidback-ness.

"You need some help, Kim?"

"No, ah, here's a vase." I said grabbing one out of the recesses of cabinet that is way too far out of my short reach but I try anyway.

Which, in retrospect, was a very bad idea.

It slipped from my weak grasp -because I didn't judge just how heavy it was- and dropped right down. I flinched down, throwing my hands over my head because it was about to fall right on my fragile skull. I squeezed my eyes closed and wait for impact.

A footstep and the comforting sound of an empty vase hitting flesh. I cracked open an eye hesitantly… and see Jared smirking. Not smiling for once, smirking.

This annoys me, just a bit. Anger flues my words as they spurt out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"I'm glad that you're amused by the fact I almost got brained to death with a crystal vase." I mumble. It's the longest sentence I've ever said to him and I can tell by his expression that he notices. And, yeah, no uh's, um's, or ah's in that sentence. I'm so proud of myself- for once.

_Right on. _

_Whoa, did I just think that? Who am I? My mother? Gah, Kim, get a hold of yourself before you start dancing around the living room to obscure seventies songs and 'trying to get your grove on'._

His smirk turns back into a smile and I blush at my sudden boldness and my dwindling hopeless thoughts.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks slyly as he turns on the faucet and fills the vase with water.

"Just, ah, let me get me, uh, jacket." And on that embarrassing note, I leave the room and go to the closet to yank one out, my eyes on the floor. My cheeks are stained a -what I'm almost 100% positive- permanent red.

"You look nice Kim." Jared says from behind me.

I jump about three feet in the air. No joke. I hadn't even heard him coming.

_It's like he's a freaking ghost. A smiling ghost. A really hot smiling- Kim get a hold of yourself!_

I sighed, turning around and giving him a smile that probably looked like a grimace.

"Ready now Kim?" he offered me his arm as he spoke, smiling. I stared at it like I had his hand in history, frozen. The Kim Popsicle all over again.

His smile fell into a frown -a freaking frown, I was starting to believe it wasn't possible for him to frown- and I snapped out of my frozenness enough to nod and head towards the door.

-

Here is a brief description of our entire date: Awkward. Yep, that sums it up pretty well.

We went to a restaurant. We ate; me a salad and Jared half the kitchen. That boy can really pack away the food. I'm still wondering were he puts it since he's as buff as a weight lifter.

After Jared was finished ingesting everything in sight -no, not literally- we talked. Well, Jared talked and I stuttered through fragments of sentences.

It went something like this:

"So, Kim," He says my name a lot, I've noticed. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

"Uh, stuff. Homework and, er, cooking. I read, ah, books a lot. Yeah, uh, I guess, that, um, that that's about it." That would be me, The Babbling Spaz. For the record, I was bright red by the second sentence.

Somehow Jared smiled, as if he thought my sputtering sentences were endearing and not a sign of mental illness. "I noticed you were reading _A Midsummer's Night's Dream _in history. You like Shakespeare?"

"Um, yeah. Shakespeare is awesome." _Really Kim? Shakespeare is awesome? I hate you. Please, someone shoot me. No? What do you mean no? Seriously-_

"I'll take your word on that," he laughs. "I never really understood what he was talking about."

I nodded. At least that was a safe answer.

I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to say something witty, or ask him about what he does in his free time but that would involve talking -which, you know, I'm incapable of doing, even after seventeen years.

"You don't have to be so nervous Kim." Jared smiles at me. I think he's trying to reassure me, too bad it's not working.

_Yes I do._

"It's just a date. Relax, Kim." His eyes are amused, and he's still smiling. Damn that beautiful laidback smile and all the things it does to my stomach.

_Yeah, like that's going to happen._

He chuckles. "You don't have to be so embarrassed about the things you say Kim. I think it's cute that -" _You can't talk like a normal person? _"You're so shy."

_Sure Jared, sure._

-

Though, really, that wasn't the most awkward part -though it was pretty high on my list. No, the most awkward part of the night was when he dropped me off.

He pulled up in front of the house in his truck, a waterlogged blue thing with crank windows, -I couldn't tell you the make or model, cars aren't my forte- and insisted he walk me to the front door. Or, he would have if I would have tried to argue. Arguing would have involved talking, which -as previously explained- we all know I can't do. So I stayed quiet and only sighed.

When at my front door while I was trying to find my keys -panicking slightly at the thought that I might have forgotten them- and Jared was rocking back and forth on his heels and -guess what- smiling.

Then, when I looked up he said, "I had a really great time Kim."

_Really?_ I couldn't believe it.

He must have read the skepticism on my face because he chuckled. "Yes Kim, I did."

"I, uh, had… it was, um… nice?" _Why did that come out like a question?_ _I had it was nice? So not a sentence. Good going, Kim._

And this is the most awkward moment of the entire date. He leaned down and closed his eyes clearly going to kiss me -and, no, I don't know why, so don't ask me. I closed my eyes because, well, isn't that what you're supposed to do? I think it would be creepy to watch someone while you're kissing them.

And, so what happens? What is the inevitable outcome of this moment since I'm in it?

We bump noses, hard. An interesting fact that I now, unfortunately, know: Jared's nose is a rock. A big, fleshy rock cleverly disguised as a nose. And, man, bumping noses with him _hurts_.

"Ow!" I squeak in an embarrassingly high pitched voice as I grab my nose as I see freaking stars -guess it was a good kiss, though, personally, I would have preferred fireworks (Or would I have?).

"Oh, Kim. I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" he asks.

"Fine." _Great, I sound like I'm holding my freaking nose closed. I bet that's really attractive. Oh, and I also bet my nose swells to twice the size of an orange tomorrow. Wouldn't that just be lovely?_

So, to save myself to further pain and embarrassment, I shove my key in the lock and quickly get into the freaking house.

"See you later Kim." Jared looks very sorry. I'm sure he's very sorry too -no sarcasm there. I feel a bit guiltily and I don't know why.

"Bye Jared." I close the door and head to the kitchen to grab an ice pack.

Isn't my life just fan-freaking-tastic?


	10. Chapter 10

**It' been awhile, I know. But between my creative writing assignments and going to see a therapist -yes, I'm getting help for my [Ahem] problems. So... **

**I'M CHANGING THE NAME OF THIS STORY! And now that the caps are off, I hope I got your attention. Because I hate it when someone asks a question in a review that I answer in the AN.**

**I don't own Twilight. Please Review. Enjoy!**

* * *

I remember when I was little I used to have imaginary friends and keep a little diary with a lock. I always used to lose the key so eventually my mother would give me diaries without locks- journals. My little nine year old self found this very grown up.

I still keep a journal, covered a doodles and my scribbled handwriting.

On some pages, from when I was younger, my name is in hearts with Jared's. Maybe I've had this crush longer than I thought. Or maybe it's just reoccurring. One can only hope.

Damn.

-

Monday morning I was riding the bus to QTS, ready to go back to being invisible. My nose was slightly swollen, but the bruising had vanished.

"What did you bop you nose on Kimmy? It looks a little blue." Jen said as she stared at my nose, her face an inch away from it, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

I sighed.

"Oh, that's fine Kimmy. Don't tell me." She eased out of my personal bubble and crossed her arms over her chest with a little huff of annoyance.

I roll my eyes and press my head against the glass, feeling every rock and bump on the road.

"I hate it when you don't talk to me." Jen continues.

I sigh again.

"Kimmy Co, what have I told you about sighing?"

I ignored her and it was harder than you would imagine.

"So how did your date go?"

My head bounced against the glass. I didn't hurt so I kept it against the cool pane.

"I'm going to guess that it went well, since you've suddenly gone mute on me. Honestly Kimmy, what in the world am I going to do with you?"

She waits for a response that doesn't come.

"So, maybe I was wrong. Did it go bad?" The pause is shorter this time, before she answers herself. "No. It was not good, but not bad. Right, Kim?"

Thankfully, I don't have to answer her because we pull up in front of QTS and I head inside quickly, following closely on Jen's heels after giving my last glance at the totem pole.

_Some habits are hard to break. _

Three steps into the hallway I run into a scurrying freshman, who ignores me as I fall to the floor. I land against my backpack and the heavy, sharp-edged textbooks that are in it. All the air in me breath is knocked out of me and I gasps a little in pain quietly.

"Kim!" I hear a familiar voice raise above the noise of the other students mulling about around their lockers and chatting as they walk down the hallway.

It's Jared, I notice out of the corner of my eye, and he's making his way towards me.

I squeeze my eyes shut and will invisibility to come and save me from embarrassment, but alas I'm not that lucky.

"Kim, are you alright?" He's not smiling, I notice as I open my eyes to see him crouching down next to me.

"Fine." I croak out in what I'm sure sounds like a someone who uses a machine to talk out of the hole in their throats.

"Are you sure?" The concern in his voice surprises me. No one is ever been that concerned about me, not even my paranoid mother.

"Yep." I mutter.

Monosyllabic answers seem lie the right way to go when talking to Jared -less babbling seems to go down with those answers.

_That's going with the assumption I'm going to talk to him again. That's if he talks to __me__ again. Which is unlikely._

Jared grabs my backpack as he helps me up and slings it over his shoulder with a smile.

I must look confused, because he explains.

"I'm going to take your stuff to your locker for you and make sure no more rouge freshman tackle you." His smile turns sly. "Lead the way Kim."

I open my mouth to protest and am immediately cut off.

"Not a chance. Lead the way Kim." His whole face seems alive as he talks and I can't object as I shuffle down the hallway, slipping in and out of students.

I only stop when I get to a wall of gossiping students.

_Well, damn._

I sigh and my shoulders slump. I know I'm stuck here until the bell rings and they move. I've tried to ask them to move before and have been ignored, so I don't even bother asking this time.

Something comes down on my shoulder, a very hot something.

It takes me a second to realize it's Jared's hand, and it's on fire. I'm about to mention that he should probably go see the nurse, but he speaks before I can.

"Hey guys." He speaks the gossipers, not to me. "Can you move for a second?"

Of course they all listen. It's Jared for crying out loud. They even apologize to him for crowding the hallway.

When the gossipers part -like the Red freaking Sea, something they _never _would have done for me- Jared gently nudges me forward, his hand still on my shoulder. I should be bothered at the physical contact, but I'm not.

It's actually kinda, sorta really nice.

_This is getting out of hand._

I know I'm going to be devastated when Jared can't see me anymore. I'm going to be devastated when I go back to being completely invisible.

Sighing I stop in front of my locker and look back at Jared. His hands slips from my shoulder and he stares at the number, as if he's committing it to memory.

"_Dare to dream a little and stop being such a realist." _Jen's words float through my mind and I give Jared a shy smile as he hands me my book bag.

"Uh, thanks." I mumbled, my cheeks painted red.

"Any time." His face is serious before it slips into an easy grin, "I'll see you later Kim."

My stomach does two well timed flips as he strolls down the hallway, his hands in his pockets.

_Maybe it wouldn't be so wrong to dream. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to pretend that I could be that girl- a girl worthy of Jared' attention._

But then again, I'm just Kim.

I give a small sigh and open my locker, wondering what on Earth I'm going to do.


	11. Chapter 11

**Aha! I bet you didn't know that your author loves plot twists and has had this cooking in the books -excuse the pun- for awhile. There have been clues, trust me.  
**

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

I've always know that I was… different, though I've never openly questioned it. I am the way I am, and despite the fact that I don't like that, I've never thought about changing myself. It seemed wrong. After all, then I'd only be liking a modified copy of myself and that just didn't sit well with me.

The more I thought about it the more I think I should have questioned it.

Unfortunately, I guess I'm just crazy.

-

I was sitting at a table in the library when everything when down hill. Jen was there, as she always is, as I pushed my fruit around my tray with disdain. I really wasn't hungry, I was too busy thinking about what I had gotten myself into with Jared.

As far as things between the opposite sex are concerned, I am utterly hopeless, so I have no idea what's going on there. I'm confused by his attention. By his glances in the hallway to the way that he helped me in the hallway this morning. What is it about the Y chromosome that makes me baffled?

Part of me, the cynical part, still thought it was a joke… or a dream. Somehow, I wouldn't doubt it if it was true. Crazier things have happened to me. At least these options were realistic.

"So Kimmy, are you going to talk to me? Or, should I just go off and amuse myself in other ways." Jen asks. She's sitting on the table, not on the bench, and she's playing with the end of her hair- hair that is back to normal today. Unfortunately her clothes are in bright and startling colors, from her startling hot pink pants and her vibrant orange shirt to her netted lime green fingerless gloves and her black and white checkered sunglasses. She looks like something out of a little kids magazine -like someone threw up cheerfulness all over her.

I sigh quietly to myself.

"Oh, boo on you Kimmy Poo. You're no fun anymore." She proceeded to lay across the table, her four inch pleather yellow wedge sandal is coming in dangerous proximity to my yellowed paged book. Her toes are painted a sparkly purple. "Why don't you just tell me what happened?"

"Because, you already know." I hiss at her angrily, mostly because of her persistent attitude and the fact that her outfit is distracting me.

Which was a really big mistake.

"Hey, Kim." Jared's voice is uneasy, and my eyes squeeze shut in something that no doubt resembles pain. "Who are you talking to?"

I open my eyes to look up where I know Jen is just lounging, and she smiles at me, unfazed.

"Uh, hey, Jared. I, uh, wasn't talking to anyone." My cheeks are already starting to paint themselves red, as is becoming the norm in Jared's presence.

_He's going to think I'm crazy. He'd be right._

"Kimmy, that's not nice. I'm right here." Jen laughs, amused by my horrible situation. Jared can't hear her, of course. He can't even see her.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He smiles at me, as if nothing is wrong at all. Which, you know, there is and I feel like it's a bright rain-bowed elephant sitting in the middle of the room. But, it's not an elephant. Nope, just my hallucination.

_How does he do that? How can he act like nothing fazes him? _

It's the face, no one could turn down that face. No one could imagine anything bad happening when Jared is around. Not with those big warm innocent chocolate eyes and ever present smile. He must have adopted the nature on his own.

But, hey, I'm not complaining, just interested. Very interested. Far too interested.

_This will end horribly in some over the top clichéd way, and I'll cry my eyes out for freaking days. Just not talking to him will break me more than I can possibly imagine. God, I'm so desperate. _

I think he can see it in my eyes, this need to be not forgotten. I hope not, but with my luck…

"Uh, of course not." I mumbled, a little intelligible to the point where I couldn't identify what I was saying. Jared obviously has better hearing than I do, because he's face brightened like I had told him The Police were going on a reunion tour.

"Oh Kimmy." Jen gushed pulling her sunglasses down to the end of her nose so she could look over them. "He's so fine." Her brown eyes were hungry as they gazed at him from under think lashes.

"So Kim… I was wondering if you were doing anything tonight or if you'd like to come over to my house and watch a movie." He talks as he forks the food on his tray and lifts it to his plump lips -lips that I haven't kissed- and never breaks eye contact with me.

My stomach does a very weird thing, almost like gurgling in pleasure and melting at the same time. It's not an unpleasant sensation, by any means, just a very distracting one.

"Kim! Pay attention when the man is speaking!" Jen exclaimed. I found it hard to focus on both of them at the same time. No one had ever been around when Jen was around before, not even my mother. This was a whole new level of weird for me. Which is really, _really_ saying something.

"Uh, what?" I ask, because I am oh, so smooth.

Jared chuckled. "Are we having a replay of what happened last time I asked you out, Kim?"

"I hope not." I mumbled to myself.

Jared laughed. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"Uh…"

"Say yes Kimmy! Say yes!" Jen chirped, playing with her netted gloves eagerly. At some point in time she must have mover her glasses to the top of her head, because they were their now, pushing her hair back like a headband.

Jared was squirming a little in his seat, his smile faltering around the edges, still as laidback as ever.

"Yes?"

"Why did that come out like a question, Kimmy?" Jen asked.

"That's great!" he said standing up, happy but not overly excited. Jared was the laidback cool guy, not an excited puppy dog. Instead his smile turned impish. "We never did get to have our first kiss."

"Wooooooo!!!!!!" Jen cheered loudly, almost loud enough to make me wince. No one even glanced in her direction. She was truly invisible.

Jared gave me one last look before he headed off down one of the book lined aisles.

"Oh Kimmy!" Jen sang. "This is great!"

_Yep, just great._


	12. Chapter 12

**Quick update, aren't you lucky. I have finals tomorrow and Wednesday. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it.  
**

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

I don't remember when Jen came to be. It had to have been shortly after I found out I was a mistake. I chalked it up to Stress Disorder or something equally quelling to my cerebrum -or whatever part of the brain that deals with stress and hallucinations, I don't know what it is, I'm not a neurologist.

After all, I've never been very good at avoiding mental and emotional distress.

I knew a few things about my hallucination. I knew that she was not imaginary. No imaginary friend would know things like Jen knows. She's a part of me, a projection of my inner mind.

She says what I think. She does what I only dream about doing. She knows what I know.

She's a part of me.

Hell, she even has my face; at least she wears it well.

It's like I'm split in two. She's the dreamer, I'm the cynic. She's the beauty, I'm the geek. She's the rebel, I'm the shy girl. We're opposites. How my mind conjured her up, I'll never know.

All I know is that I'm split… and screwed.

-

"Kimmy." Jen sang. She hasn't left me alone since the library. Normally she comes and goes, but nope. I have a feeling that I won't be able to shake her for a while. I think she wants to go on my 'date' with me. Personally, I wouldn't call it a date. I'd call it a disaster waiting to happen.

"That's funny." Jen laughed as she rolled off my couch. I tapped my pen on my paper and tried to ignore her. "It could be like a blockbuster hit." She snickered before pitching her voice low, trying to copy the guy the does all the voiceovers for the movies. "A disaster waiting to happen."

She plopped down upside down on the chair across my living room, her back on the seat and her legs in the air. I noticed that she had taken off her sandals and rolled up her pants.

"Speaking of movies, I wonder what movie Jared picked out. I bet it's some romance thing. Or maybe he has the idea to get you really scared so he can hold you. You know a really scary movie. Wouldn't that be _so_ sweet Kimmy?"

It would be sweet. I imagine Jared holding me with his ridiculously hot skin but the image dissolves to dust and I try to focus on studying for my test in Chemistry. Which is impossible with Jen in the room. I'm staring to think she wants me to fail.

"Of course I don't want you to fail Kim. That hurts my feelings. How could you possibly think such a thing? Besides, you'll do great." She smiled then and looked at me; her too wide smile looked flawless -not shy like it did when I smiled. "History though, that's another story."

"Shut up." I mumbled.

"She speaks!" Jen's face lights up, making her angular cheeks look stunning. I'm jealous and it's my face.

"You wouldn't shut up until I did."

"That's not completely true."

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, fine. Maybe it is true." Jen caved. "But I'm only here because you need me to be. You always forget that part Kimmy. I'm here to help you. I'm here to make you better."

_Oh, yeah. Riiiiigggghhhhtttt. _

"Always a cynic." Jen rolled her eyes. "Could you believe in something for once Kim? Take Jared for example. Can't you believe he wants you? Can't you believe that he likes you? Why would he talk to you if he didn't?"

_Drugs, practical jokes, amnesia, idiocy, shits and giggles, atmospheric phenomenon- _

"Stop over-analysing things Kim." Jen commanded with a glare. "Can't he just like you? Is it so hard to believe your likeable?"

_Yes._

"Is it so hard to believe you're attractive? Personally I think you're a knockout but I might be a bit biased." Jen's grin was coy.

_How come when I smile like that I look constipated?_

"You over-think things. Just relax Kim. You're wound too tight."

I sighed.

"Think sexy and you'll be sexy. Think painfully shy and awkward and-"

"You get me. Yeah, got it. Since when did you start sounding like my mother?" I cut her off, mid rant.

"Since your mother is a very wise woman."

"Let me get this straight. You are referring to my mother as _wise_? A woman who said that there wasn't a cloud in the sky when it was overcast!" My voice hiccups up an octave.

"Okay, maybe that wasn't her best moment." Jen concluded, her brow crinkling in her concentration. "And yeah, she's made some very poor mistakes and has had horrible judgement in the past, but she's your mother Kim. You shouldn't resent her."

Arguing with Jen is technically arguing with myself, I get nowhere. I sighed, again, glancing at the clock.

"Did Jared say when to be at his house?" Jen asks.

_No, he hadn't. He hadn't even said that I should meet him there._

"Did he say that he was going to pick you up?"

_Nope. See, getting stood up to a date without having to go anywhere. This is a new low._

"Pish posh Kimmy Co, Jared will come through. Have faith."

"We'll see." I muttered dryly.

"Indeed we will."


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry this took so long but I've been gone on vacation. The first one of the summer -there are more to come. Europe baby! I went to Europe and it was AWESOME. I loved it. Spain and Italy. I might put a list of things I've seen and learned on my profile in the next few weeks. And pics if you want to see them.  
**

**I don't own Twilight.  
**

* * *

When I think about the future -on good days when the thought doesn't drive me into a panic- I think that I'll probably end up as a librarian or a …. Heck, I don't even know- I'm not really good at anything.

When I think about my love life, I always come up with nothing, or a nerdy geek with tapped glasses and acne who has the guts to ask me on a date that ends horrible. For the most part, I never marry in these thoughts, let alone date. I die alone, with no children in a house full of books that hold adventures that I will never have.

Little did I know that my life was about to get a lot more interesting.

-

Indeed we did. Someone knocked on the door and jumped about a foot -maybe two- in the air before I got off the couch to go get it, unconsciously smoothing my clothes as I went.

It was Jared and Jen was right, though she seemed to suddenly have vanished.

_Typical Jen._

"Hey Kim." Jared smiled. "Are you ready to go to my house or do you need a bit more time?"

I stared at him wide eyed and I noticed something was off. My question popped out before I could think to stop it. "Why do you, uh, have mud on your face?" It was a legitimate question because he did have mud on his face, his cheek to be precise -a long, wet smudge- and I found it quite distracting.

Jared had a miniature panic attack, or at least he had a Jared version of a panic attack. He rubbed his face a few times roughly and asked, "I do?"

"Uh, yeah." I blushed, pointing to his cheek.

He rubbed it away like it was burning him. He wasn't visibly panicking, but nor was he his usual laidback self. His eyes seemed tense, even when he tried to smile.

It made me _insanely_ curious.

_Maybe he's just worried about making a good impression. Yep, let's go with that._

"So, are you ready?"

"Uh, yeah, just one sec." I said thinking quickly and grabbing my keys, my jacket, and scribbling a note to my mother about going over to a friend's house in case she got home before I did.

Jared frowned as I wrote, his brows scrunching together, but he didn't say anything. When he made that face he looked a tad bit constipated, if not a bit angry. I was tempted to tell him so before my shyness clamped my jaw shut firmly and my cheeks flared red.

He led the way to the truck and, after fumbling with the lock, I followed him. His fingers were twitching when he opened the passenger door for me.

"Are, uh, are you okay?" I said looking at his fingers pointedly.

"Yeah." Jared flexed his fingers and gripped them into a fist.

"Ah, okay." I mumbled climbing up into the truck. Jared closed the door behind me, rather loudly. He walked to the driver's side and threw open the door, slamming it behind him.

_Defiantly not okay. _

"Why, uh, are you angry?" I blushed.

He turned at looked at me and his eyes locked with mine until he tore them away. When his gaze was on the windshield, he started the car. "I don't want to be your friend Kim."

_I think I'm getting mixed messages. _

"Okay." I reached for the door handle, ready to go inside and cry.

_I should have known better. I should have known that this would happen. Why-_

I feel something hot on my wrist and, oh guess what, it's Jared's hand.

_Huh? Why is he-_

"I want to be your boyfriend. If, you know, that's alright with you."

This is the craziest thing Jared has ever uttered and I sit there waiting for him to say 'not!' like some nineties TV sitcom cliché. He doesn't though and that concerns me. It would almost make more sense for Jared to jump out behind a trash can wearing tights and screaming the Batman theme song than for him to be telling me that he wants to be my boyfriend.

_This. Is. Crazy. What? The? Hell?_

"Why?!" I'm mildly alarmed. Okay, a bit more than mildly. I'm ready to take Jared to an insane asylum, or rehab for his cocaine addiction this very second. I'm having a miniature panic attack, which is probably much less subtle than Jared's had been. I think I might be hyperventilating, but I'm not positive.

He laughed at my reaction. "What do you mean 'why'? I like you Kim. Guys tend date girls that they like." He starts up his truck and the backfire makes a BANG that causes me to jump in my seat like a timid rabbit, or deer.

"Isn't this, ah, going, uh, like really fast, or something." I muttered, my heart racing from the fear I had experienced a minute ago. We had only known each other for a few days. I'm no expert on dating, we all know this, but I think it's supposed to go slower. We've been on what, one date? Okay, so maybe sitting in the truck counts as like, half a date, but isn't there some three date minimum or something?

"Well, I guess so." He said, hands on the steering wheel, before groaning. "Ah, fuck, I don't know how to do this."

_Neither do I._

We sat in an awkward silence that Jared was unaffected by as he drove down the rain slicked roads towards his house. I sighed.

"Listen, Kim. I don't know if you like me… at all, but you seem like a really cool girl. I mean," He smiled, glancing over at me. "I've never met a girl quite like you."

_What? You've never met someone who could be considered clinically insane? Aren't you Paul Walker's best friend? _

I stare at him like a deer in the headlights, confused and a tad bit scared.

"If you want to go slow than I can. But…. I really like you. I've really never done anything like this before." That lazy smile and his almost careless words -like he really hadn't thought any of them over- sent my brain buzzing in a very unfamiliar way. It was almost unsettling.

This statement slips out before I could stop it: "You dated Emily Melanomas-" _Fitting name, really. _"-for three weeks."

As soon as I realize what I said, I blushed at how stalker-ish I sounded.

He looks at me questioningly.

"The whole town, uh, knew. My mother ranted, uh, about how cute a couple you guys made." My blush just kept getting darker and darker as I spoke.

_God, I'm so pathetic. _

Jared looked back at the road. "I wasn't aware we were dating until a week and a half in" He shrugged. "Then she cheated on me with half the football team."

I felt bad for Jared but stopped the pitying look before it could show up on my face. No one likes being pitied.

_What kind of girl does something like that? Jared's amazing. How could someone cheat on him? Which just goes to show that Emily is a disease. For the record, I so called that one. _

"Uh, I, um, I hadn't heard about that." I murmured awkwardly.

"Not many people know. I'm not into gossip and Emily didn't want her name tainted." He gave another shrug and my mind revelled in the brilliance of Jared.

_Why is he sharing this with me?_

"That's… really, uh, nice of you. She didn't really deserve that, did she?"

He shrugged, calm and unaffected, as if this wasn't awful and depressing.

Right now, I hate Emily and she hasn't really done anything to me. Well, that's a lie. She kicked rocks in my face when I was little, but that's a story from the tales of Kim-Had-A-Suck-ish-Childhood and really isn't important right now. I won't go into details, but there are quite a few tales. I should write a book about it.

What's important right now is that Jared's really starting to surprise me. I mean, I knew he was a good guy -unlike his best friend, but I digress. I never knew that he was like this.

_This perfect, laidback, un-awkward, un-spiteful handsome- I'm rambling_.

I stare at Jared with a bit of awe from behind my hair for the rest of the drive to his house.

* * *

**Tell me your favorite Kim saying -or thought- in a review. We shall see which wins and then I'll tell you mine.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Update.**

**Your top Kim saying: **_What? You've never met someone who could be considered clinically insane? Aren't you Paul Walker's best friend? _

**My favorite Kim saying: A fact that I now, unfortunately, know. Jared's nose is a rock, a big fleshy rock cleverly disguised as a nose. **

**I don't own Twilight.**_**  
**_

* * *

When Jared pulled up to his house my stomach dropped into my knees and a squeamish feeling in my stomach told me that I really, really, really didn't belong here and that I should run in the other direction as fast as I could. Why, you ask. Well, for being on a reservation, Jared's house is nice. Really nice, like shutters and flowers up the walkway nice. Nothing too fancy -must I remind you, we live on a reservation- but it sure was a hell of a lot better than the houses around it.

My house has weeds growing on either side of the walkway and a broken window that mom never got around to fixing -mostly because she really doesn't know _how_ to fix a window, but that's besides the point. The point is that I felt really cheap and small and scared when I looked at that house.

_Oh, no._

I can almost imagine his mom baking with an apron and a Jared smile on her face while his father read the newspaper at the kitchen table -like Jared's life was some 50's sitcom, but I digress. My mind kept pushing our lifestyles in opposite directions so that there was no doubt that Jared and I were two social spheres that didn't touch.

_Like I need reminding._

I looked down at the dashboard and try and think of ways to get out of this situation without hurting Jared's feelings. He was looking at me rather hopefully -not smiling after his tale- and I was trying not to blush under his scrutiny out of guilt.

"So, what do you think? Pretty over the top right?" Jared smiled finally. "My dad's in construction and just loves fixing up the house."

_That explains the niceness. It doesn't explain the look you're giving me. The one that turns my knee caps into something other than bone._

"It's…. nice?" _Too nice. _

He laughed. "Ready for a movie?" He asked while he grabbed his keys, his other hand on the handle- that hopeful expression crushing my will to escape. He looked like a kid - wide eyed hopeful innocence.

I crumbled.

"S-sure." I stammered, my hands going clammy- I did not, however, blush. I think I was starting to -God forbid- get used to Jared's presence. I was actually sorta, kinda getting comfortable around him.

Until his whole face lit up and he gave me that look that made me feel naked and I blushed.

_Damn._

I blindly groped for the handle and pushed my door open -except it wouldn't budge, at all. So I ended up shoving my shoulder against it as subtly as I can manage. Which, really isn't that subtle. At all. I kinda look like a puny little girl who's trying to move a giant rock and it isn't budging. At all.

"Oh, let me help you Kim. That door sticks a lot." Jared smiled as he hopped out of the cab of the truck and strolled around to my side.

The windows in his truck were cracked, so when he spoke on the other side of my door, I could hear him. "You push on three, okay?"

_Great. This is like a dream date. The sarcasm is tangible. _

"One."

_Nothing better than throwing my weight against a door, looking like I'm having a seizer while Jared The Great is watching trough the window._

"Two."

I brace my hands against the handle and prepare to shove my shoulder into the door.

_Shoot me. Please. Somehow I'm going to Kim-a-fie this. Just watch._

"Three!"

I pushed, and Jared pulled.

Good news: The door was opened.

Bad news: I hit my head against his cement driveway when I fell out of the cab and am now sporting a _very_ attractive scrape across my forehead -not to mention I can feel a bruise forming on the left side of my face.

_Told you, it was Kim-a-fied. I'm almost impressed at my growing physic abilities. More predictions like this and I can start my own reality T.V. show._

"Kim!" Jared's voice shot up an octave and I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, trying to roll me over. I was resilient. I didn't want him to see the epically large _gash_ on my head.

"Ow" I groaned into the driveway that had, seconds before, greeted me with open arms -or rock as it were. My face _hurts_. My side hurts. I hurt. "Ugh."

"Kim? Are you okay?"

Does Jared induce injury? I swear every time I'm near him, I get hurt.

_This is sounding like another prediction… _

"Uh, no. Ow." I only half-whimpered.

He tugged on my shoulder until I rolled over. His warm eyes were wide and concerned and worried and his jaw clamped shut audibly when he saw my face. I could feel the blood matting in my hair and dripping down my face; I could feel the gravel stuck on my arms from where I'd tried to catch myself.

_Do I look that bad? Ugh, I feel that bad._

"Come on Kim." He said as he scooped me up. Like I had a choice in the movement, but I didn't protest as Jared lifted me up in his too-warm arms and headed up the flower lined walkway. "Did you hit your head, or just scrape it?"

"Scraped it." I muttered, lifting my fingers to my head to probe the bloody mess that my face had become, wincing when they brushed against the now raw feeling skin.

"That's what I thought. You're pupils were the same size, so I guess you don't have a concussion." He said while somehow managing to get his front door open while simultaneously holding me. How-?

_It's like he opened it with his mind. Creepy… _

"Great, not concussed. Goodie." I muttered sarcastically under my breath, still probing my head gingerly.

"Goodie? Kim," He smirked. "Are you _sure_ you're not hurt?" He teased me and, of course, I turned a funny shade of beat red.

_Thanks, Jared, thanks._

He plopped me down of the couch and held up one finger while smiling that smile that could light up this entire rainy town. I blinked and he walked into a different room. The second he disappears Jen appears by his pine T.V. council.

"Hmm…" She taps her chin with a long and bony finger while she stares at the pictures on top. From what I can see there are quite a few -and Jared's in most of them, always smiling; but never thousand-watt smiling.

_Why not? Jared not thousand-watt smiling seems… surreal._

My brow crinkles and pain shoots through me as my scalp stings something fierce. I involuntarily hiss and Jen's attention shifts to me. She prances across Jared's warm, comfortable looking living room and plops down on the pillow next to me. She grabs my head in her hands, and tries to get me to turn my head but I won't.

_Go away Jen._

She ignores me, as per usual. "I can't believe you fell out of the truck, actually I can, but I digress. You didn't even say yes when he asked you to be his girlfriend. I'm very disappointed."

I sigh.

Jen started a rambling speech, undeterred. "Jared will be back in a minute Kimmy, and I want you to flirt. Giggle when he jokes and blush when he compliments you -though I doubt you'll have a problem with blushing." I glared, but she continued. "So if he picks a scary movie, be scared -again, probably not a problem. If it's sappy, look up at him from under your lashes- Kimmy are you listening to me! Pay attention."

I turned her out half way through. She could ramble on all she wanted -we both knew that wouldn't happen. Except the blushing. I blink and Jen is gone, nothing unusual there.

Jared comes back in holding a wet wash-cloth, antiseptic, and a box of band-aids.

_Oh boy._

_

* * *

_**I know that Jen technically is Kim -as one out you lovely reviewers pointed out... but what's you're favorite Jen saying? Drop me your and I'll drop you mine. Sound like a deal lovelies?**


	15. Chapter 15

**Uh, sorry this is so late. I'll update Once upon a time in a mental institution soon. Promise. Maximum Ride: Learning to Fly... soon-ish. City of Angels? I don't even know.  
**

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

I am an only child. It's a small fact that I've learned to deal with- that there will be no one for me to pass on my worldly wisdom too, nor will there be anyone to guild me through the tough years before me.

My mother and my father really should have never reproduced in the first place -I _am_ a mistake after all. (I haven't gotten any details about how _that_ happened because, frankly, I'd rather not know. If you catch my drift.) I really don't think that my mothers neurotic and paranoid tendencies should have been bottled up wit my fathers shy and cynical view of the world. The combination would be _quite_ the disturbed child, no?

After all, how many parents can boast that their child has hallucinations? (Well, er, mine don't exactly know. Because that conversation would be more than awkward and would probably end with my mother telling me that I'm just 'trying to get attention'. Sometimes, I swear I can't stand that woman.)

-

A little boy comes rushing in behind Jared, with a very Jared-like smile on his face and short hair that's poking out in every direction, like he's just woken up. I recognise him a little -from the pictures on the T.V. cabinet. He's in all the pictures with Jared that scream 'siblings!' There's another person in those pictures - an older smiling girl who doesn't really look like Jared at all.

"Griffin." Jared sighs, looking at his little brother with wariness in his eyes.

"Who's this?" Griffin bounces excitedly, looking at me like I'm a new shiny toy. Only he shouldn't, because he looks about seven -do seven year olds still play with toys? I don't know.

The cute little boy -who may, or may not have attention deficit disorder from the looks of things- is smiling up at me with that little boy face and an excitement that may, or may not, be that of getting a new toy. I don't know what to do. Really, I'm at a loss. I don't know how to deal with kids -I'm an only child as previously mentioned. My mother is inept enough at child-caring-for, and my father much more so, so I really don't have that I-adore-kids gene.

_But, dammit, I'll try. _

"I'm, ah, Kim." I try to smile and hold my hand out for him to shake.

Obviously little boys don't shake hands. No, they hug. Enthusiastically and a bit too long for comfort. Jared had to pry him off of me.

"Jared?" He asked, all bright eyed and innocent.

"Yeah, Grif?" He asked, half smiling.

"Is Kim your girlfriend?" He asked, still eyeing me. I noticed he was missing one of his teeth- his smile had never really stopped, but I hadn't expected it too; he _is_ Jared's brother. Or, at least I think he is.

"Why don't you ask her Grif," He said cutting me a look that said he wasn't too sorry for doing this. This meaning pressuring me into saying yes.

For just a second, I really hated him.

If Jen would have been here she would be screaming yes in my ear until I couldn't think about anything else. Fortunately, she isn't here. Unfortunately, I don't know what to say.

"Uh…." My eyes dart between them, as if the answer will magically materialize. It doesn't, but you already knew that. "I don't know."

"Will you be _my _girlfriend?" Griffin asks, smiling at me in all my bloody glory. Jared hands me the wash cloth, trying, unsuccessfully, to hide his huge smirk. I glare at him and take the damp terrycloth, holding it up to my forehead.

"You, uh, don't want to be my boyfriend." I told him.

"Sure I do." Griffin says, undeterred. I'm starting to resent his little kid persistence.

I sigh. "Jared, ah, kinda asked me first." It's the only scapegoat I have. From Jared's expression, I can tell he's internally gloating.

I shot him a dirty look.

"Oh." The little boys face fell and I felt so guilty. So guilty.

_To hell with it. It couldn't hurt, right?_

"But, ah, who needs Jared? Sure, Griffin, I'll be your girlfriend." I mumbled and Griffin's face lights up so bright that it almost compares with Jared's smile. Jared's face was priceless- so priceless that I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Words can't describe the mix of astonishment and -_jealously? _

_That can't be right._

"Really?" Grif smiled, heels bouncing up and down on the ground.

"Sure…" I said, wondering just what I had gotten myself into. I glanced at Jared, but he was looking at his brother.

"Grif?" Jared asked.

"Yeah?" Griffin is still all excited about the fact that we're dating.

_Is it weird that I'm dating a seven year old? Yes, yes it is. _

"Go to your room." Jared pointed to an area behind me.

"But-" Griffin tried to protest.

"Nope. Go on Grif." Jared shook head, resilient to the sad angel face he was getting.

Griffin eventually crumbled and marched off to his room with the most defeated look on his face.

Jared sighed. "I'm sorry about that Kim."

"It's, uh, it's okay." I blushed.

He gave me a half grin before plopping down next to me, stealing the wash cloth and cleaning up my face for me- since I was doing a really crappy job. "So? Who needs Jared?" He seems to find this oddly humorous. Especially as my blush darkens.

"Uh, what can I say? He has a way with women." I mumbled staring at my hem of my jeans, where the denim is fraying white instead of meeting his gaze.

Jared laughs, hearty resonating chuckles that shake the entire couch. He tips my head up with a finger under my chin and grabs the antiseptic. I'm transfixed by his intensity, his laughter; his _light._ He poured the antiseptic onto the damp wash cloth and reached up to the cut on my forehead. I'm staring at him like I've never seen another human being before, or like what he's doing is the most fascinating thing in the entire world.

"This will sting." He said motioning to the wash cloth. I blink in response, and stop staring because I think that he might think it's more than a bit awkward. I certainly do.

"I know."

And, it does sting. A lot. I can hear it bubbling away the concert bacteria and all the other germs that could've gotten into it and all I can think about is the look in Jared's eye- the skeletons and emotion that I can't describe- as I wince.

"Better?" He asked, frowning and gripping the cloth tight enough that all the water and antiseptic starts running down his arm and dripping on the couch. The corner of his eyes are tight and he looks so concerned.

_Why is he doing that?_

"Yeah."

"Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel kinda showed up by my little brother." He smirks half heartedly.

"I'm sorry… I just felt so guilty." I look away from him when I speak, so I'm capable of answering in non-monosyllabic answers without stuttering or uh-ing.

"He knows he's cute Kim. He uses it to his advantage."

"Oh."

I think about how amazing Jared is -cute, hot, and funny- and wonder if he uses that to his advantage and wonder if anyone has fallen for it and Jared is, in fact, not as perfect as he appears to be- which we all know is pretty perfect, except the crappy acting thing.

_Probably. _

"So… are you ready for a movie?" He asked, his voice startling me out of my thoughts and causing me to look at him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry this bitch took so long to write. As is life. **

**I nearly pissed myself when I was writing this- 'cause I thought it was hysterical, not because I have a small bladder [it's massive and impressive, rest assured].**

**And to you -YOU know who you are- Jen's not going away for a while. Kim's got to sort shit out and she's NEVER very honest to herself. Obviously. Jen has to be here... for now.  
**

**I don't own Twilight. **

* * *

Here's another small fact to add to your compiling list about me which may include, but is not limited to, insane, neurotic, an only child, masochistic, paranoid, friendless, a future psyche ward patient, incapable of opening her closet without risk of being smothered, has the inability to put on make-up, horrible luck, fantastic taste in TV shows, sarcastic, stuttering and or unable to form complete and intelligent sentences, awkward, uncoordinated, a mistake, spiteful towards parental units, lonely, and alone.

It's quite a long list, but I digress.

Where was I? Oh, yes, small fact.

I don't get out much.

Now you can add it to the rapidly growing paragraph of things you know about me.

So, since I don't get out much you can pretty much figure out on your own that I'm not really up to date on all the movies out there- or what was good and what blew up the box office with it's horrible stink-worthy-ness. But then again, did you ever think that I would be?

I certainly didn't. Perhaps you're giving me too much credit.

-

Jared let me pick the movie from his extensive collection that consisted mainly of action-adventure, horror, gore, comedy, chick-flicks -I suspect these aren't Jared's, but I could be wrong- and children's movies -like Disney and Pixar stuff, which I think are Griffin's.

I don't know what to pick really. Part of me is leaning towards the chick-flicks -I suspect this part is Jen- because at least I'd be in my element a bit. Horror and gore are completely out of the question because I'll probably end up having nightmares afterwards. I'm not an action-y person -ain't that the truth. So that leaves me with comedy and children's.

Which meant comedy; my hand hovered over _Clerks 2_.

Until I spotted _Finding Nemo_- a movie that I'd always, always, always wanted to see.

My mind was an excited jumble of geek-ness. My inner nerd was screaming in joy.

My mind knew it should pick up the comedy since -not seven minutes before- I'd said I'd be a seven year old's girlfriend and picking _Clerks 2_ would show that I was not, in fact, a child.

But my heart wanted to watch _Finding Nemo_.

I was about to pick up the comedy, when Jared saw how I was eyeing the children's movie and scooped it up, smiling.

_God, he must think I have the mindset of a toddler. _

"_Finding Nemo_?" He asked. I nodded, as if I wasn't a kid in a candy store who was about to get the biggest chocolate bar in all existence.

"I've never seen it." I said, hunching my shoulders- protecting myself from whatever comment he could have about me sever lack of pop culture.

"You've never seen _Finding Nemo_?" His voice is so confused, as if never seeing the movie in his hand is a physical impossibility.

_He's acting like I just told him that I can lick my elbow. _

"Uh, no." I try and make myself even smaller on the huge couch. I feel like I'm drowning in the cushions and overall comfy-ness that is Jared's couch.

"Then we have to watch it." He said pushing buttons on the DVD player. I don't have a DVD player -I have a VCR that doesn't work half the time and won't rewind the cassette all the way through the first time, and even then that's if you can get the stupid machine to _take_ the tape without ejecting it.

So I'm amazingly impressed when it takes the small shiny disk on the first try without the tray popping back out. He skips the previews by pressing something or other and the menu pops up with music. He does something that I can't see and heads back towards me, a remote in hand.

Jared plops down on the couch after giving me a _very_ nice view of his ass -which I really appreciated- and put his arm around me like we'd done this a thousand times and it was the most natural thing in the entire world.

And, for just a second, it was.

Until his warmth boiled trough my shirt and into my skin like an electric shock and I had the inability to stop my heart from pounding in my chest like I was having a panic attack. Then I remembered. I remember that this was me and Jared and we could never possible be natural together, which led to different, less appropriate trains of thought in which Jared was 'natural.'

Jared raised a curious eyebrow when I turned tomato red for no apparent reason.

_Oh, nothing, just thinking about you naked. Nothing unusual. _

God, Jared naked. Try as I might I couldn't get my mind to stop thinking about it -or imagining it since I've never actually, you know, seen a guy naked outside of a health text book.

Of course thinking about my old heath text book wasn't helping the whole lets-not-think-about-Jared-naked-while-he's-sitting-next-to-me-and-starting-the-innocent-children's-movie thing that I was trying to do.

_Don't. Think. About. Jared. Naked._

It was sad that I was chastising myself about such a thing. This kind of thing never happens to me. Never. Swear on my life.

Thankfully, Jared seemed oblivious to my train of thought, so we sat and watched _Finding Nemo_ and about ever ten minutes or so the image of the naked text book male with Jared's face and skin and height and weight and muscles would pop into my head and mock me mercilessly.

For the entire movie.

_I'm so going to hell. _

I personally thought that it was Jen -scolding me fro not picking a chick flick or sappy something. Or, maybe it was God, deciding to have a laugh watching me blush awkwardly- like, 'Hey everybody, let's laugh at Kim! She's thinking about Jared naked! What a hoot!', complete with hand waving and pointing. God, I figure, is a cruel, cruel celestial bastard of epic and all-knowing proportions.

_Ugh._

"So, Kim, what do you think?"

_What?!_

I nearly choked on air, seriously. Biology Man -as I have dubbed him- popped into my head with Jared arms and Jared legs and Jared skin and -oh I'm so very screwed- that thousand watt Jared all encompassing smile.

I thought I was going to die of embarrassment.

Until I realized he was talking about the movie.

_Get your mind out of the gutter, Kimberly. God, since when did you get to be such a pervert?_

Unfortunately I kinda sorta answered my own question.

"Since Jared is so sexy. I mean I honestly wanna lay him over the coffee table and-"

"The movie was great!" I yelled, interrupting Jen from where she was playing with something on the coffee table, and I wasn't about to look at her to find out what she was messing with for risking a look at said coffee table -which was now tainted in my mind, with lusty Jared thoughts.

He seemed only mildly confused about my outburst -which I found promising. In fact, he took it really well.

Jared smiled his light bulb smile as his brow creased and he gave me a half confused have amused chuckle.

"Glad you enjoyed it Kim." His voice was all honest and boy and smooth and …Jared.

His brow crinkled as I blushed and he gave a hearty chuckled that shook the couch.


	17. Chapter 17

**I'm sorry that this took _over two months to write_. Actually, this took me like a week to actually write, but I digress. I've been working on several other projects, including some of my own work. Sorry.  
**

**I don't own Twilight. **

* * *

Sometime the world is made of firsts. You've seen it happen in history, a word that starts a riot, or a spark that burns down a city. It's the first little initiative that that starts something in motion.

Cause and effect.

It's a little different experiencing it than reading about it though.

Sure, I could listen all day long about how Bessie kicked the lamp and burned down most of Chicago, but that's a little different than coming to realize a little kiss can set in motion a series of events that could just about change everything.

Yeah, just a little different.

-

It was dark outside when we headed to his truck. La Push at night has always been something that I hadn't enjoyed, because the trees always loomed sinisterly in the dark, like they might reach out, grab you, and pull you into their shadowy depths where terrifying horrors await you. He opened the passenger door for me and I scrambled up, trying to wrap my mind around this night.

Problem: I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.

Solution: None in sight.

_Damn._

I sighed, because I don't think I would ever, ever understand Jared, and I slouched down in the cracked leather seat. My clumsy, hasty fingers wrestled with the seatbelt and tugged it over my hunched shoulders as a melancholy washed over me.

When Jared slides into the cab he notices my mood and frowns. "What's the matter Kim? Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"I, uh, I…..I had a good time, Jared, really."

He raised an eyebrow at me and picked at my expression with his eyes -as if he was trying to detect a hint of dishonesty . If he saw any, he didn't say anything, just shoved his keys in the ignition and started the truck.

I wasn't any more prepared for the BOOMING backfire the second time.

This time, embarrassingly, I let out a completely undignified squeak and immediately turned red -but it was dark and I was hoping that Jared would notice the latter, even though he's probably seen my face tomato red a hundred times before.

"Sorry Kim, I forget about the backfire sometimes." Jared apologized, though it sounded like he thought my reaction was funny.

_Jerk._

But he wasn't really wasn't, because as soon as he noticed my shaking Jared turned up the heat in the cab and didn't comment as he pulled out of his driveway. Jared's caring still astounded me though, and sent those little I'm-going-to-be-absolutely-miserable-if-this-ever-goes-bad vibes through my system.

It seemed I was getting those more and more frequently lately.

"Kim…" Jared started, glancing over my way after a minute or so.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry if you didn't have a good time tonight. I'll understand if you don't want to keep hanging out with me."

I huffed, annoyed. "Jared, I told you I had a good time. I _did_."

_How come the only time I can speak like a normal person is when I'm angry?_

"Then, would you be interested in hanging out again?" He asked, amused.

"Yeah, uh, sure." I whispered, and tried to bottle up enough courage to say something that was going to be hard as hell to say, because Jared had said earlier that he liked me and well...

_I could do the same, right?_

After all, it's only fair. An eye for an eye; a confession for a confession.

"Jared?" I squeaked, hands clammy and breathing strained. My stomach was all knots, like a cat's cradle gone all wrong, and I really, really didn't know how I was going to say this.

"Yeah, Kim?" He glanced at me, worry in his eyes.

"I, uh, I... like you too." I whispered inaudibly, looking away from him and his chocolate stare and towards the window.

The worst part of the confession? He didn't say anything.

_But, really, what do you say to that? _

I couldn't come up with an answer.

When we get to my house, I feel like I'm going to cry, because he _hasn't said anything,_ and I haven't gotten the courage to look at him. As soon as the truck goes into park I wrench open my door -that actually opens, by some amazing stroke of luck that's sure-not to last- and I hop out as quick as I can, hoping that I can make it to the house before Jared decides to tell me he's suddenly changed his mind and that he can't possibly like me.

Of course, I don't make it.

His door groans as it opens, and his voice trails after it. "Kim? Wait up, what's the matter?"

I don't slow down as I make a beeline for my front door, hoping against hope that I can avoid disaster.

Which, I'm still not sure if I did or not.

Jared is obviously faster than I am, because just as I'm fumbling with my keys- and I just _have_ to drop them, because I wouldn't be me if I didn't- he steps onto my concrete porch and grabs my scrambling hands, clutched around my wet keys. His hands are like hot, dry coals on my wet, cold, trembling hands.

"Kim, what's wrong?" He asks, his voice is all low and concerned to the point that it makes my knees want to knock together.

"I, uh…. You didn't…." I stammer, because his face is _right there_ and I can feel his breath on my face like warm mist. His breath smells like toothpaste and popcorn and Jared, and I find myself fascinated with that smell. His lips move, but I don't hear what he says because I'm absolutely mesmerized by his proximity and the way his lips move when he talks.

We all know my mind is mush in Jared's presence, but I've just discovered that the gooeyness of said mush is directly related to just how close he is to me, because right now, standing on my porch I can't think about anything except that I want Jared to kiss me.

"Kim." His voice saying my name snaps me out of my Jared-induced brain fart momentarily, long enough to look up at him and see him looking down at me.

I am then back to ogling Jared's lips, and wondering what kind of toothpaste he uses.

So, I'm pleased beyond words when he leans down, and I can almost _taste_ his breath on my tongue and then he just hovers there, waiting.

I'm dying a sad little death inside because I want him to close that last inch or two, until I realize that he's waiting for _me_ to close that distance.

Which, considering the lack of thought process going on right now, I do.

It's odd that I regain control of my neural synapses the moment before our lips meet, in a moment of clarity that should have made me pull away.

But I didn't.

His lips were warm and soft; much softer than I ever thought a boy's could be. I could feel his caution as he brushed them across mine with gentle pressure, then with more assurance his lips gained more vigor, moving with mine briefly.

It wasn't until he pulled away -and I had caught my breath- that I realized that I had just kissed Jared Hillman.

I just had my first kiss.

_Oh, sweet Jesus._

He was standing there, looking as smug and as happy as possible, with that thousand watt smile turned up as far as it would go as I blushed and stammered out something along the lines of goodnight, though my guess is that it was much less eloquent if the color of my cheeks in the mirror in the bathroom was any indication. The trip from the porch to the bathroom was such a blur, I was almost half convinced that it had never happened at all.

I couldn't grasp this, the feeling in my veins, something that had my heat pounding, my eyes clear, my lips smiling, and my head spinning. It made me feel reckless, stupid, and brave, but I had no where to put it, no name for this feeling.

Whatever it was though, I liked it.

I liked it a lot.


	18. Chapter 18

**Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Happy New Year.  
**

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

Believing takes courage. Knowing something takes will.

I wasn't sure that I had either before I met Jared.

Now… now I'm not entirely sure that I knew who _I_ was before I met Jared, let alone if I had enough courage to believe or enough will to know. When I look back on those days… I wonder if I ever understood how lucky I was to find him -or more accurately, have him find me.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

-

Whatever mental high I had discovered Monday night had faded when I woke up the next day. Now, three days later, I still didn't feel… the same. Sure, I was still Kim. Awkward, pathetic, fumbling, spastic, socially impaired Kim. But, I don't know, I just felt different somehow. Shinier maybe, or more present. Less invisible.

I didn't know what was happening.

Jared was still talking to me, a week or so after that day in history, and he's pretty much assumed we're boyfriend and girlfriend until I decide to correct him -which I won't because the title is just too tempting, and really, I'm only human. I haven't had to walk to class alone since Jared was standing at my locker Tuesday morning, wearing that thousand watt smile and wet hair. I also haven't had to eat lunch alone like I usual do -unless you count Jen, which most people can't, seeing as no one knows she exists, which she doesn't.

Unfortunately though, since Jared has decided to sit with me his best friend has felt compelled to do so as well. Which means I have to endure Paul for a half an hour each day.

I think that the reason Jen hates Paul is essentially because I hate Paul. A lot. With a passion.

Why, you're probably asking. Because really, how can meek, shy little me muster up enough hate after I look in the mirror. Well I'll tell you.

Paul broke my arm.

Now, really, it was an accident and I don't blame him. It was a long time ago, and the details are a bit shaky, but I do recall it involving a bike, but that doesn't matter.

I don't hate him because he broke my arm, I hate him because he doesn't even remember doing it.

I wore that off-orange-colored itchy atrocity for over a month, and he never even noticed.

_Bastard._

In fact, right now said bastard is refusing to acknowledge my existence while shoveling mouthfuls of mash potatoes into his big, fat mouth, which is fine by me, because I don't want to talk to him. Jared however, is trying to start up a conversation, compelled by forces unknown to me. I keep shooting him looks that I think say 'no, don't' but that he's probably taking as 'oh, Jared, why doesn't he talk to me? Does he hate me?' or something similar because I'd learned Jared has the subtly of a retarded goldfish.

"Paul, don't be a caveman. Kim doesn't need to see that, man. Have some manners."

Paul grunts -it's the most he's said since he sat down.

"It's, uh, it's just fine, Jared." I whispered, pushing my food around with my fork.

Jared shook his head with a sort of stubborn determination that was not only insanely attractive, but also caused me to think that I wasn't going to like it very much.

_Oh, no._

"Why do you have to be such a dick anyway man?" Jared pushes.

"I have a feeling this is going to end poorly." Jen whispered from my side. I looked at her and frowned, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Paul glares at him, and his hand starts to tremble. "You never seemed to mind before _she_ came along. I'm not going to change because you fucking _girlfriend_ can't stand me," he seethes.

_Was my malice really that transparent?_

"Uh, yeah Kimmy," Jen pats my back. "But, really, who could blame you?"

"What? Kim doesn't-" Jared protests.

"Yes. She. _Does_." Paul growls, shaking harder.

"No-" Jared tries, looking less hopeful by the second. He keeps sneaking looks at me, and every time he meets my eyes I have to look at my tray in guilt.

"Yes." Paul spits. "She does."

"How do you know?" Jared argues.

"I just do!" Paul yells.

"Jesus, Paul, calm down!" Jared hisses, "We're in the cafeteria."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

_Oh, boy. That's the wrong thing to say to a homicidal maniac like Paul._

Paul's shaking so fast, I think he might just explode. I've never seen someone so angry before. Never.

"Paul, you _know_ what Sam said." Jared says, looking at the emergency exit.

_What does that have to do with anything?_

Suddenly, as if by some unknown force, Paul stands up, flips Jared off, and sprints outside.

At first, I think everything is better, like I've just survived at hurricane, but it turns out just to be the eye of the storm. It's true what they say, you know. The second part of the storm is much worse, because the only thing worse than Paul's angry words at his best friend, is Jared's disappointment.

There's an eerie silence for about five seconds after the emergency door slams shut as the student body processes what just happen. When the babbling continues -twice as loud now that they have something exciting to talk about- I make the mistake of looking at Jared.

He is not smiling.

This concerns me on a level that I can't explain, and my heart does a desperate double thump in my chest so hard that my ribcage aches.

Jared looks at me like he doesn't know me -which, considering the week we've known each other, he really can't. He looks at me, and his brow in knit in confusion. He looks a little lost, and for a second, there is no recognition in his eyes.

I wait for him to yell at me for hating Paul, or break up with me with the whole 'bros before hoes' thing.

Instead he just looks at me without seeing me for a second before he said:

"Well, if I know Paul, which I do, he probably deserves it. If fact, _he_ probably thinks he deserves it."

Then he smiles, and everything seems… better somehow. Brighter. Sharper. Warmer.

"I… he…" I try and explain, but Jared just grabs my hand and gives it a small squeeze.

"It's alright, Kim." Jared says, lips still curled up in that thousand- watt smile. "It's alright."

I give him a small, shy smile, because it kinda feels alright, and if Jared says it is, than I might just believe it.

I might just believe it.

* * *

**What do you believe in?**


	19. Chapter 19

**It took me like a week to get fanfiction to accept the document, but otherwise I was just lazy. Sorry guys.**

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

I had been 'dating' Jared for just over a month when the bus woke me up.

Honk. Honk. Honk!

"Shit!" I shot awake, hair in my face and blankets all askew.

It was too late, I knew, to even try catching it. Just like I knew, even before I turned to look at my alarm clock, that it was blinking -the power having gone off in the middle of the night.

_This is what you get for not going out and getting your own damn batteries. Mom's too forgetful to follow through on her promises._

I was completely and utterly fucked.

My head fell back and crashed into my pillow just as the bus started to pull away. My eyes immediately went to my phone, laying accusingly on my bedside table, staring me down. It seemed to say 'Hey, come on. Just call in sick. You know you want to.'

Normally I would have, in a heartbeat, just to avoid the fifteen minute sprint it would take me to get to school after getting ready. Call me lazy, but I hate strenuous physical activity, especially if it's timed.

But I didn't want to miss school.

Jared was at school, and call me pathetic, but I craved every second that I could have a general excuse to be in his presence. School was one of those. After all, if I didn't have a excuse I would just seem unreasonably clingy, because seeing Jared several times almost every day of the last month had become addicting. As had the kissing and the talking and his smile, but I digress.

I wanted to see him, so I had to go to school.

So, I would run a little over half a mile for Jared.

_But…_

Maybe I didn't have to.

I reached for the phone with clammy hands, and swallowed nervously as I punched in the number.

It wasn't the school's number, nor was it the nurses station at the hospital.

It was Jared's.

Ring.

_Please don't let me make an ass out of myself._

Ring.

_God, if you have any mercy, you'll let him pick up._

Ring.

_You know what, on second thought, scratch that._

Rin-

"Hullo?" Jared's voice was slow and sleepy and gravely, and made my stomach do something it shouldn't be able to.

_It feels like my organs are hugging each other_.

That isn't natural and it shouldn't make me want to jump his bones.

_But it does._

"Jared?" I whispered, blushing even though he isn't in the room.

"Kim!"

I could practically hear his smile, and wondered for the thousandth time why he liked me so much. Not that I minded, of course. I might when he doesn't anymore, but I've decided to cross that bridge when I came to it. Though personally I think it'll be less crossing and more crawling while I sob uncontrollably and think about throwing myself over the railing.

"Hi," I mumbled.

"Hey. What's up?"

"I missed the bus."

"Already? Did I oversleep?"

There's a rustling noise, and a plastic clunk that sounds like an alarm clock hitting the wall.

"No. I'm just the first one they pick up. School starts in about an hour."

"You ride on the bus an hour before school even starts?"

"Usually."

"I'm picking you up from now on."

I sighed.

"I'm serious Kim. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jared continued, as if my sigh had been an actual protest. "You know it's no trouble."

"Jared, I- it wasn't a big deal. It's still not. Don't-"

"Kim, don't say 'don't worry about it.' I'm picking you up from now on."

I sighed.

"I'll be over in like… a half an hour." There was a pregnant pause. "Do you have cereal?"

I thought about the contents of my cupboard, knowing Jared's never ending appetite.

_He'd eat the moon and still be hungry._

"Yeah, but no milk."

"I'll get milk. See you soon, Kim."

"See you."

Click.

I stared at my phone, wondering how it had really been that easy and contemplating my new 'Jared time.'

_Oh, the possibilities._

It was out of the classroom and the school, home and most likely back again. I thought of all the kisses, and the hand holding that could happen. I thought about the smiles and the number of times he would tuck my hair behind my ears.

Until, of course, I realized that I'd been staring at the phone, grinning like a fool for the last ten minutes.

Which left only twenty to get ready -unless Jared was early, which he was most times.

I fell off the bed in my haste, shoulder making contact with the carpet heavily- my legs at an awkward angle, tangled in my sheets.

"Ow," I mumbled, crawling far enough away from my bed that the sheets untangled themselves from my calves.

Once that was done I slowed myself down, so, you know, I didn't kill myself before Jared got here.

The tile in the bathroom was cold and the shower was hot. The water beat down forcefully until I changed the nozzle setting on the head. The moister stung painfully against my new rug burn and I got shampoo in my eye.

_Lovely._

Brushing my teeth went far better, considering that I was moving the brush so hard and so fast that I made my gums bleed.

When I got back to my room I shoved some unmatching underwear on because it was freezing and, frankly, I don't want frostbite.

I was always cold these days, unless Jared was around.

I almost fell when I pulled on my jeans, and I hit my head on doorframe of my closet when I reached for my green sweater -the one Jared likes.

Once I was dressed, things went more smoothly. My socks matched- and didn't smell, so they must be somewhat clean- my shoes slid on without untying them, and my hair didn't make a single fuss when I yanked it into a ponytail, even if a few stray strands slid out.

I barely had time to step back and look at myself -squinty red eye from shampoo, and red mark on forehead from closet- before I hear a knock at the door.

It was Jared of course, looking sleepy and smiling and too perfect considering how little effort he had probably taken to get ready.

"Hey," he smiled, eyes going straight for the eye and the forehead. "What happened?"

Jared was well aware of my awkward disability.

_You know, the inability to function like a normal person_.

"Shampoo, oh, and my closet attacked me."

His smile grew, "It did?"

"Yep. Didn't want me to get my sweater."

He leaned forward and kissed me, his lips lingering on mine until I blushed.

"I'll make it up to you." He held up a gallon of milk. "Breakfast?"

"Sure," I smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

**I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

Secrets are dark things that fester in dark places. My secrets haunted me. They hid around corners and tried to ruin me. Or, I felt like they did.

Secrets destroy. Secrets grow. Secrets consume.

Everyone knows that secrets can eat you alive from the inside out with guilt, or can come back to stab you in the back with a double-edged knife.

But was I supposed to share mine?

No, I couldn't.

I'd take it to my grave.

* * *

Jared was keeping something from me. I guess it was hypocritical for me to be upset about it -after all, I was keeping my fair share of secrets.

In fact, I was talking to one of them right now.

_Well, arguing, but it's pretty much the same thing with Jen. _

"I don't see a problem with it," Jen said, lying sprawled across my bedroom floor flipping through a magazine. And when I say flipping, I mean _flipping_. I doubted she had a chance to read anything before she turned the next page. The magazine just seemed to have no end, either. It just kept going and going and going.

It was completely and totally irritating.

Flip.

I was completely and totally irritated.

Flip. Flip.

I wondered what would happen if I stepped on her.

_Would she disappear? _

_Would my foot go through her?_

_Would I wake up from this nightmare?_

_Would the magazine still be there?_

"I do," I said, going through my clothes, knowing she'd just wind up on my bed with that obnoxious magazine in hand. Then she would flip though it more out of spite.

"It's a skirt. There's nothing wrong with showing a little leg." Flip.

I shot a glare at her. Flip. Flip.

"I want to be comfortable tonight. I won't be comfortable if I'm wearing a skirt."

Flip. "You need confidence, Kimmy. Face it, we have stunning legs. Stunning legs plus skirt equals confidence. It's a no brainer." Flip.

I sighed.

"Look, Kimmy, I don't see why you're so worried anyway. His parents are going to _love_ you." Flip.

"You don't know that. You're not psychic -_despite_ what you'd like to believe."

"One, your scathing tone hurts. Two, your scope on the supernatural is narrow. And three, if you knew anything at all, you'd know I prefer the term 'clairvoyant.'"

I ignored her, holding a sweater up against my torso so I could imagine what it would look like with the pants I was wearing. I really don't know why, because it doesn't work. You really can't know what something will look like until you're wearing it.

"No," Jen vetoed, without even looking up from her magazine.

Flip.

"I like it," I mumbled.

"It's _orange_," she said, like that was the worst possible thing in the entire world. Flip.

"You wear orange all the time," I accused.

"Not next to my face," she said. "And you want to know why? We don't have the complexion for it. Copper and orange don't mix, Kimmy. You'll feel retarded the entire night."

She was right.

"I usually am," she smiled smugly.

I sighed.

Flip.

I threw the sweater into the reject pile -it was getting rather large.

_If it gets any larger I'll have to dub it a mountain. _

Jen snickered.

"Could you at least help?" I asked, exasperated.

"I _am!" _she said indignantly. Flip. "You're just not listening to any of my advice."

"All you've said is to wear a skirt. I'm not wearing a skirt because, one, it's cold, and two, I haven't shaved my legs."

"So shave your legs," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. Flip.

"I don't have time!" I snapped, before composing myself. "I'm sorry, I- I'm just frustrated."

I glance at her and caved. "Are you sure there going to like me?"

She met my gaze and sat up, pushing her magazine to the side.

"Kimmy, I'm absolutely positive! They'll love you." Her earnest voice was coming out, and her eyes were widening. Any minute the sincere pout would appear, and I would cave to her antics. "I mean, what's not to love? Besides myself, and no one needs to know about me. But you know that."

_What's not to love? Does she _want_ me to make a list?_

"Oh, don't be such so negative! Trust me."

Ah, and there was the pout.

I scowled- then sighed in resignation.

"I'm not caving about the skirt."

She squealed. "That's fine. Pants are fine, I guess."

_What have I gotten myself into?_

"Wear your nice jeans -the ones without the rips. You can't look like you're headed to a job interview, and those slacks scream waitress. But you can't look too casual, so wear the lace shirt that your mother got you for Christmas last year."

I held up a finger. "One problem -it's see-through."

"So wear the blue spaghetti strap shirt from the reject pile under it."

I tugged the jeans out of the drawer, grabbed the lace shirt off its hanger, and tugged the blue shirt from the bottom of the reject pile before looking up at her with dubious eyes. I opened my mouth to question her before she cut me off.

"Yes, Kimmy Co, I'm sure. Besides, Jared loves it when you wear blue."

Ah, Jared.

I'd been avoiding thinking about him. An anomaly, I know.

"He has to have his reason," Jen whispered, seeing my expression.

I slid my slacks off awkwardly and tossed them on the reject pile.

"It just- I mean, I know I don't have any right- but I-" I stumbled on my words and on the pant leg of my jeans.

"It hurts," Jen said.

I nodded.

"It feels like-" I said, only to have my words cut off by the blue shirt. I'd forgotten why this one had wound up in the reject pile. It was so tight.

"Like he doesn't trust you. Yeah, I know."

I looked at myself in the mirror and tugged at the blue tank top. "Are you su-?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You don't look fat. You couldn't look fat if you tried. Trust me."

I sighed, and yanked the lace shirt over my head.

"You know," she said. "This is probably how Jared feels all the time. Like you don't trust him."

I froze with the lace shirt bunched up under my boobs, and thought about that.

"Jared's a smart boy, Kim. He's noticed."

I swallowed thickly on the lump of guilt in my throat.

"I can't. You know that."

"I know you can't talk about_ me_. But you haven't talked about your mother. Or your father."

I didn't know what to say about that, so instead I tugged down my bunched up shirt and smoothed it over my stomach.

"He deserves to know," she said.

"I know. Believe me, I know."

I knew.

I glanced in the mirror and saw conflicted eyes staring back.

"You want him to know," Jen said, so unnecessarily.

"Yes… and no."

"You should tell him. He'll take it well, because, well, because he's _Jared_. He loves you."

I whipped around and stared at her.

"I mean," she smiled. "What's not to love?"

"He doesn't -"

She pointed to herself. "Clairvoyant."

I sighed.

"Trust me, Kimmy. That boy is so in love with you he probably shits chocolates and roses."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"See, now that's the Kimmy that's going to impress the parents. And you want to know why?

I rolled my eyes, smile still glued on my face. "Sure."

"Because you love him too."

The protest is on my lips when she vanishes, because we both know it's pointless.

Because she's right.

_She usually is. _


End file.
